


Worth

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Depression, Dreamsharing, Eating Disorders, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Misunderstandings, Neglect, Pining, Rimming, Self-Hatred, Sex Magic, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 15:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: Bucky's deathly ill, being burned alive by his unstable serum, and the doctors are at a loss. Wanda finds a magical cure all, but it requires someone to lose their virginity to a spellcaster for it to work.Fortunately for Steve, there's one person around willing to do the deed. The fallout from it is not what either of them expects, though.





	Worth

Rain pours down over a mountaintop, far removed from most of the people of this world, from all of the people who know of him, and intentionally so. The sun is rising, and its orange light is turned dirty brown by the clouds that lay between it and the earth below.  


He does not tense, does not move, but he knows the moment that the other steps into his cave.

He lets his eyes remain closed and exhales slowly. He’s been tracking his progress. Has had more than enough time to flee, to prepare to fight, if that were what he wanted.

He no longer knows _what_ he wants.  


“Have you come to kill me, Captain?” He asks, and the steps falter, Rogers falling still. Loki can hear his breaths and the sounds of the water dripping from his clothing to the stone floor on which they stand.

“I came because I need your help.”  


Loki opened his eyes, his brows rising as he takes in his once-foe, apparently turned supplicant.

“ _Well,_ ” he says, doing nothing to hide his surprise. “Isn’t that interesting?”

He can’t help but feel a swell of apprehension, though, at the prospect.

Help.

It’s not something he knows how to give anymore, if he ever had known.

  


\---

  


“He’s getting worse.” Steve told those around the table, though he kept his eyes down, fixed on the screen in front of him. The one they each had in front of them. “His condition is deteriorating, and I have no idea what I can _do_ \--” his throat closed around the words and he choked, unable to continue.

Bucky had come in, had come _to him_ , and Steve had been trying to help. But he was there and not, sometimes deep in his head, sometimes unresponsive for days. Sometimes he only responded to direct orders. Sometimes he tried to give the orders. Sometimes he only spoke in Russian.

It had seemed logical to bring in Natasha, when that happened. But… it turned out they knew one another. She and Bucky. Only she called him James.

And that seemed to help.  

Bucky had-- it was like watching him wake up. And he spent less and less time in his head.

It had all been… well, close to perfect, for a few weeks.

But then the nightmares had started.

The sleeping had stopped-- or at least declined until he was unpredictable, exhausted, and falling apart, at all hours of the day and night.

And violence-- lashing out, destroying things, had begun. But each time it happened, he would collapse afterwards, and his body… it seemed to be eating itself. He ran hot, then cold, sweated out any fluid they could get into him. The doctors didn’t know what was causing it. They tried antibiotics, gave him every type of scan they could think of-- and Steve could see it wearing on him.

Bucky had spent more time in and out of hospitals and labs than he had with Steve lately, and that was… they couldn’t help that. He needed to get taken care of, and when he wasn’t in to be treated, his first priority was Natasha. And now--

Two days ago, Bucky had woken in the night and tried to kill Natasha. They were all lucky she was as good as she was, that she’d made it out alive and managed to disarm him without causing any real damage, but… Bucky had collapsed afterwards, and he hadn’t woken since.

Steve looked around the table at his team, gathered there, mostly silent. Mostly unable to help.

But only mostly.

Bruce was working with some of the top medical specialists out there, trying to help figure out what sort of serum Bucky had been given, and what role it was playing in his current state. But it was hard for them to figure out anything, when they also had to worry about keeping him alive long enough for results to come in.

Nat met his eyes, then looked to Wanda, who had wrapped her arms around herself, but looked up, as well.

“I think I have something. It’s in a book-- but I’ll need… I need to translate it. Can I bring it to you tonight?”

Steve couldn’t stop the relief he felt, that there was hope. However small or undefined, it was still hope.

“Yeah, of course, whenever you can. Thank you, Wanda.”

“We’re working on getting him stabilized.” Bruce promised. “Shouldn’t be long now-- in theory, we’ll be able to stop his deterioration by morning. Buy you some time for…” He waved at Wanda, and she nodded her gratitude.

The meeting closed, and Steve thanked them all before turning away, looking at Bucky on the wall screen, laid out on a bed and strapped in just in case. He let the others file out, but wasn’t surprised when Natasha stepped up beside him.

“I’m sorry.”

Her face gave nothing away, her voice smooth and flat, but Steve couldn’t help but feel wary.

“What for?”

Near as he could tell, it was Nat with bruises on her neck, not him.

And it _should_ have been him. He couldn’t help but think it, though he didn’t try and explore that line of thought any further.

“I’m sorry that you love him.”

She answered, and Steve flinched. He tried to recover, tried to smile. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to imply that she and Steve would both be better off if they didn’t care. He felt his stomach twist at that, felt a wave of anger. But then, with how she’d been brought up… maybe that was to be expected.

He couldn’t help but hope she never let Bucky catch onto that line of thought though. Knowing him, and how he’d been these last few weeks, when he was lucid-- he’d probably agree with her.

“There’s nothing wrong with loving him. He loves back-- he loves _you_.” and it came out as an accusation. She didn’t react to his tone, though.

“I know. And I love him. That’s why I’m sorry you do, too.”

She turned to look at him, then, and though her face was impassive as always, there was so much sympathy in her eyes...

Steve swallowed.

“Nat, you know he thinks of me like a little brother. I wouldn’t-- even if I... _he_ doesn’t--"

“I know.” She repeated, and when she smiled, it was sad. She lay her hand on his shoulder. “I always wondered why you’d never follow through on those dates. Now I know, and… I’m just sorry. But you’ll find someone. You will.” She pulled him in towards her and hugged him.

He thought she must feel guilty, like she’d stolen something from him. But it had never been his in the first place. He hugged her back, careful not to squeeze her too tightly.

“I’m happy for you.” He told her, and it was the truth. “We’re going to figure this out, going to get him through this.”

“I know we will. And… thank you. If the tables were turned, I don’t know if I’d be as good of a person. As good of a friend.”

She spoke plainly, bluntly, and he knew that was her way of showing she cared. That she was being honest. It was a compliment, in her own way. And a question.

“You would. I know it.” He assured her. “But I’m glad that you don’t have to find out.”

She squeezed his shoulder, glanced at the screen one more time, and walked away.

Steve stared at Bucky, unmoving on the table in the camera feed, watching until Nat joined him on screen, then huffed out a sigh and turned away. It felt like an invasion, watching them together. He felt so powerless. He’d thought the serum would have fixed that, but apparently not.

“JARVIS?” He asked, not raising his voice.

“ _Yes, sir?_ ”

“I’m going to be in the gym. Please let me know if Bucky wakes up, or if Wanda finds anything.”

“ _Yes, sir.”_

Steve unbuttoned his sleeves and headed for the next level down, feeling like he needed to punch something for a while.

\---

  


“It’s… it’s very old magic. And not the kind I can do.”

Wanda spoke in a rush, trying to get it all out.

“It’s, um, more rooted in myth than anything else. But it works, according to the books Tony traded Strange for.”

She lay the book on the table, and Steve glanced down, even though he knew he couldn’t read it. He looked at the papers she was holding instead.

Moving slowly, almost nervous or guiltily, she held them out.

“I can… I fit the bill.” She told them, color rising to her face. “But I need a sorcerer as a partner and… Strange…” She trailed off, looking away.

Steve got it. Strange was a jerk, and he wasn’t exactly kind to Wanda, specifically. He dismissed her, more than anything. It wasn’t a good partnership.

Nat took the papers and started reading, eyes widening and having to go back over the words again to be certain she’d seen them right.

Apparently she had.

“No.” She told her. She looked to Steve, who reached out for the papers.

“We can’t ask that of you.” She informed Wanda, as she passed them over.

Steve skimmed, probably reaching the same point she had before he looked up.

“Natasha’s right. We can’t ask you to do this. It works, though? You’re sure of that?”

Nat looked sharply at him.

“Steve...It can’t be me. I don’t _fit the bill_ , as Wanda said. And...”

Wanda gave them a shaky, uncertain smile.

“There are no records of it failing. It hasn’t been done often, but when it has, it’s worked. And it fixes… people worse off than James Barnes. People who were on their deathbeds, people who were mad for decades, people born with disabilities-- it can cure even the most hopeless. In the words of the book, of course.”

Steve nodded.

“Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll talk to Strange.”

Wanda blinked, surprised, but couldn’t hide the relief on her face, though she clearly felt bad immediately after.

“Thanks for finding it, Wanda. Really.” Steve reached out and hugged her.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty at how tense she was, until she relaxed into the embrace.

He felt like he was sucking all of the tension in, though. He’d just signed himself up for this-- now he had to figure out how, and wrap his head around what he was giving up.

“Steve?” Natasha asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

He shook his head.

“It’s fine. It would have been for him anyway. At least this way…” He shrugged, releasing Wanda, lest he hold on too tightly.

Natasha was watching him, looking for any sign of fear or uncertainty. And Steve had plenty of both, but he knew he couldn’t show it.

“It doesn’t fail, Nat. You can’t beat that.” He pleaded her silently not to argue any further.

He needed to do some research, get packed… get himself ready.

Finally, she nodded and let him go.

\---

  


“I’m afraid it would be completely pointless.” Strange said, in his off-hand, dismissive way. It set Steve on edge, made him want to grit his teeth, but he hid all of that away as best he could, since he knew his only chance lay in convincing the guy.

“What do you mean, it’d be pointless? Wanda said there’s no record of it ever not working. 100% success rate hardly sounds pointless to me.”

“It only works, though, if both parties can _physically_ commit to the spell. I’m afraid you’d find me completely incapable of doing so. No judgement on you, of course.” Strange looked Steve up and down as he spoke, though, and he got the distinct feeling that he was being judged.  


“Right.” He said, taken aback because he’d just-- _forgotten_. Forgotten what he was asking. He’d been working so hard to distance himself from the sacrifice part, to logic it into something… else... that he hadn’t considered what it entailed, exactly. Not like that. And it seemed like such a ridiculous thing to forget, when he’d spent so much of his life afraid of it, in one way or another.

“I’m sure I’m honored to have been asked, but I’m afraid the answer is no.” Strange concluded, watching him closely.

And that was it, then. Steve tried to stifle the nervous thrumming of his heart in his chest, tried not to feel like his stomach had sunk to his knees, but that was it. Without Strange’s help, there was no way they could pull this off. He slumped, defeated. Strange was watching him, obviously considering something, and when Steve looked up, he saw the sorcerer make some kind of decision.

“You might try Loki. I’m sure you all think him dead-- _again_ \-- but I’ve been keeping tabs. He’s found himself a nice little cave to crawl inside of, and he rarely leaves. I’m certain you could approach him for such a favor. He’d likely be far more... receptive.”

Steve sucked in air, trying to sort through his emotions. Shock that Loki was alive, anger that Strange hadn’t said anything before now. Fear, about asking _him_ of all people for this. But hope, again, so quickly after losing it.

“Tell me where.” He said, not really a request, while he squared his shoulders and tried not to think too hard about what he was doing. It was one thing to ask an ally who was a bit of a jerk. It was another to ask an enemy.

Strange pursed his lips and drew up some coordinates, handing them off to Steve on a small piece of paper.

He tucked it in beside Wanda’s translation and the scans from the original book, the sticky note with the clumsy scrawl contrasting to the neat rounded letters of Wanda’s writing and the nearly illegible reprints of faded ink on yellowed paper.

“Thanks.” he told him, standing to leave, then paused. “And if anyone else we think is dead is still alive, you might want to consider sending an email or something, because I have a feeling Natasha is going to have words for you after this.”

Strange just smirked and looked unconcerned, and Steve couldn’t help but be glad it wasn’t going to be him on the receiving end of Natasha’s anger.

Even if he _was_ moving from the frying pan into the fire, by going after Loki instead.

\---

  


When the Captain finished his brief tale, Loki sat, not looking at him, but instead staring down at the copies of the pages from the Witch’s book, spread out on his lap.

“You cannot read this.” He said, not really asking, but looking for Rogers’ confirmation just the same.

“No.”

Loki nodded.

“Have you any idea what it is that you ask?” He looked up, brow arching as he considered the man before him.

It would be a great deal of power, if he truly was untouched. His body and will were both strong, and Loki knew how to harness it. It seemed likely that there would be enough-- he could use the power to travel home, to open a path from here to any of the other realms.

It made Loki itch to know _why_.

“I got the brief version, yeah.” Rogers spoke tersely, and Loki couldn’t help but smile, feeling distinctly predatory, thanks to the Captain’s discomfort.

“Tell me.” He spoke quietly enough that Rogers took a step forward, the better to hear him, before he realized himself.

“I know that Bucky’s deteriorating past what our doctors know how to take care of. I know this spell--” and the word was awkward in his mouth, unfamiliar and distressing, no doubt, but he pressed on. “I know it always works. I know what it requires-- you need a virgin--”

“ _You_ need a virgin.” Loki corrected. “And I hope you are not so much a fool as to expect that I am one.”

The Captain turned what would no doubt be a pretty shade of red in better light.

“No. I’ve got that covered.” He tried to keep his words even, but Loki could hear the deepening disquiet in The Captain’s tone. He sounded unsure. Not at all the usual conviction he was used to seeing in this man, in particular. But then, he’d explained why in the confession.

He waved his hand.

“Continue.”

“We’d… have to have sex. And that would be tied to the spell. And it would make Bucky better. That’s all I know. All Wanda could tell me.”

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Yes, your hedge witch is basically correct, I suppose, if less than thorough. It is an old magic-- old even by my standards. The working itself is fairly straight forward, as it needs must be, given the state of distraction that the caster must necessarily be in. But the energy… A great deal of energy must be tied to the working. It is the magical equivalent of leveling a building. Energy of this magnitude must come either from a birth, a death, or a first night. Obviously, the latter is the favored method. It requires the least amount of commitment. But if you’d rather die for your friend…?” He let his lids lower a little, trying to make the words sound suggestive, promising.

“No.” Rogers was certain about that much, at least.

“Hm.” Was all Loki offered in return. “Well, I thought I might ask. There are those who would feel differently.” He kept the observation light.

“I will need to know details. What has been done to this man, your friend? What has he done, and what sort of state is he in?”

Rogers blew out a harsh breath.

“Can I sit?” He asked, gesturing at the floor of the cave, in front of where Loki was. Loki nodded, and Rogers was nearly graceful in the way he dropped. But only nearly.

He was tired, of course-- Loki had made sure to make himself remote. No doubt he’d wasted far too much  too-precious time in just finding him, let alone getting here.

Who even knew if Rogers’ friend was still alive, with as desperate as he seemed?

“If you need a list of all the things he’s been through… I can’t give that to you, and I don’t think anyone can. I can tell you about when he broke his arm when he was ten, but there’s a big gap of-- when he was… 28, I think. 27. Somewhere in there. He was pumped full of untested chemicals. They were experimenting on him, trying to make him more like me. And not long after that, he fell off of a fast moving train, down into a ravine. I thought he was dead. Left him for dead.” Guilt all but dripped from the Captain’s words, and Loki almost looked away, embarrassed for his sake.

“Near as I know, the people who found him amputated his arm and replaced it with his metal one. And after that, there was a barrage of… torture, training, brainwashing, he’s been shot and stabbed who knows how many times, but he does have some healing capabilities, beyond a normal human’s. And he’s been frozen. And thawed, only to be sent on missions, brainwashed with electricity, then frozen again when he’d served his purpose. I don’t know how many times that happened.”

Loki listened, wondering at who this person was, why he had warranted such treatment. A criminal, he’d be inclined to think, if not for the fact that Rogers was firmly on his side.

“And where is he now? How poorly does he fare, last you heard?”

Rogers blinked, clearly giving himself a mental shake.

“I… I spoke to Bruce a few hours ago. His body is… they think it’s his healing, his metabolism… he’s in a coma and his body is burning him up, eating itself. He couldn’t sleep before this, started lashing out. He’s getting worse, too. And there’s nothing we can do with what knowledge we have. And we don’t have time to find something else. Bruce says he has… two, maybe three days, tops, at this rate.”

The words came out, smooth as if rehearsed, which made Loki almost suspicious, save that the his voice was flat, as if he were wounded.

“And what is it that his body is attempting to heal?” Loki asked, just as smoothly.

Rogers blinked.

“What?”

“If his healing is what is draining him, it stands that his body believes itself to be under attack from something. I would ask what that something is, but it seems your healers are too backward to be concerned by anything but the symptoms.” Loki sneered into the words, dismissive.

“So. Your science cannot save him, and even if it could, you are too short on time for that to be possible. You have, therefore, come to me, an enemy, to request that I break your chastity and do this working, to save this man’s life. He must be very important. Which leads me to ask-- what do you plan to give me in return?”

Rogers gaped, seemingly uncertain if he should be insulted, on either his own behalf or that of the doctors caring for his friend.

Loki pushed on, feeling a little ruthless for it, and delighting in the power he felt because of it.

“Surely you didn’t suppose that giving me a chance at your body would be enough, did you? I have no need of it, and if I wanted for sex, I could find a perfectly willing partner with far less ulterior motivation. So. What will you give me, in exchange for my spell work and your good treatment?”

Rogers’s jaw clenched, his shoulders squared, and he met Loki’s eye- which Loki found amusing.

“I have money, if you want that. If you need supplies of some sort, I can get them for you. I don’t know what you do want, or need, but if you tell me, I can figure it out.”

“I want to keep the excess power. That is my first condition. Ordinarily it would go back to you, be absorbed… but you stand to release a goodly amount, and I can make use of it.”

“What will you use it for?” Steve asked, clearly suspicious, and Loki smiled, all sharp edges and teeth.

“I do not know, and even if I did, I do not feel I owe you that information. Can you live with knowing you may be enabling me to do something horrific?” He asked it lightly, taunting him, trying to see just what Rogers would give for this to happen. Just how much he would give up.

Rogers clenched his jaw again, nostrils flaring, but he jerked his head.

“I’ll have to try and stop you, you know that, right?”

“Stop me if you can once I determine a use for the power; that is expected. But you must agree to give me this power now.”

“I agree.” His words were tight, but the agreement was there. Loki nodded, feigning graciousness.

“My next requirement is a favor. Before you ask, I do not know what it is yet, what it will be. But I will not pass by this chance to hold Captain America in my debt.”

Rogers nodded again, still stiff, clearly not liking the prospect.

Loki smiled.

“Good.”

He looked around himself, taking stock, and nodded.

“Now leave.”

 

Rogers spluttered, his face turning red, and stood, clearly angry.

Loki stood too, one hand raised soothingly.

“I need time to make the necessary preparations. And, I suspect, you do as well. To be clear-- you may wish to bathe. Clean yourself. And bring oil back with you when you return tomorrow. Nothing I have here is suitable.”

“Oil.” Rogers repeated.

“To smooth the glide. Blood need not be spilled for this spell, and I would imagine you’d prefer to avoid it. Certainly, I would. That is an entirely separate type of magic.”

The blood drained from Rogers’s too-red face, leaving it too-pale instead, but he nodded, and looked around as well.

“Is there-- would it be better, easier, to do this in town? I have a room at the inn…”

Loki scoffed.

“Are you worried for my comfort, or your own?” He asked archly. “Our agreement included me treating you well, if you will recall. When you return, there will be due accommodations. I realize I am oft heralded as the god of lies, but I am yet a man of my word.”

Rogers’s face was inscrutable, for perhaps the first time since he had arrived.

“Alright. When tomorrow do you want me to come back?”

Loki shrugged.

“When you are ready. I should have ample time between now and then.”

The captain nodded, wiped his hands on his pants, and cleared his throat.

“Until tomorrow, then.” He said, and left.

Loki watched him leave, mentally organizing what he would need to do. And silently wondering whether or not Rogers would be able to muster the nerve to return the next day.

\---

  


Theoretically, he knew what ‘getting ready’ meant. But only theoretically. He knew there were ways to clean himself out on the inside, but he didn’t know how to do that, how long before hand that ought to be done. How long he’d stay clean for, once he did.

And he was supposed to do that, right?

The trip down the mountain was treacherous in the rain, and in between bouts of sliding through the mud, he took shelter under outcroppings and trees, wondering if it was worth waiting-- if it would let up any. If he oughtn’t just camp out up here, and save the time.

He searched on his phone, researching sex and sanitation practices, growing increasingly worried.

But Loki had just said to bathe. Maybe he wasn’t expecting… but it might be rude to assume that. He’d have to try his best with what he had, he supposed. But he did get a move on, hoping he’d be able to get his hands on suitable oil-- fortunately, he was fairly certain their general store had lube. At least he knew about that one.

And he knew they opened early enough that if it was closed by the time he got there…

It was.

By the time he reached his room, he was soaked, exhausted, and he’d over thought everything until his stomach was all twisted up into knots. He knew he should eat something-- or should he? Would it help if he didn’t?

He had some of the local ale that was handed out like water, instead.

It did nothing for his nerves, but he hadn’t expected it to. But it did help slake his thirst and gave him something to do with himself, for a moment.

After that, he stripped down and considered the tub in his room. It was the kind where you heated water over the fire and poured it in, one kettle at a time. He just didn’t know-- tomorrow he’d have to get up and climb the mountain again. How clean he’d stay after that…

It didn’t really matter, though. In all of the vagueness of what was going to happen, this was maybe the only thing Loki had been clear on. Bathe. Bring back oil.

Steve huffed out a breath.

He set the kettle over the fire, filled nearly to the top, checked the time zones, and dialed Natasha’s number, even though it was still far too early where she was.

She answered on the first ring.

“Where are you? Strange said he turned you down.”

There was no preamble, no annoyance or concern in her voice, but Steve knew better.

“Nat, you and I both know that you could find me if I was on another planet.”

She snorted, but held her silence, and Steve sighed, nerves forcing him to speak.

“Strange told me where Loki is. He’s alive. I spoke to him. He can do it-- agreed to do it. I go back tomorrow. It’s night here. Tomorrow… it’s going to be fixed. Can he hold out that long?”

There was rustling on the other side of the line, like Natasha was sitting down, or moving fabric.

“Do you think you can trust him?”

She hadn’t answered Steve’s question, and he felt his stomach, already tight, go cold and drop out. Behind him, the water had begun to make the rushing sound that preceded a boil.

“How’s Bucky, Nat?” He pushed, rather than answering her, in return.

“It’s still getting worse. Faster than they expected. Honestly, the sooner your fix can happen, the better… but Steve, I don’t have to tell you you only have once shot at this. And if you blow it on Loki-- shit, sorry.” He heard her wince and could imagine the expression on her face, which almost made him giggle hysterically, but he knew that wouldn’t do any of them any good. And more than that, he knew how stressed she had to be, how worried, that such a slip had even happened.

“I just mean,” she hurried to correct herself, “If he betrays you, if he takes this from you and doesn’t save James…”

“There’s no one else, Nat. We have a very limited number of magic users on the planet, and I’m at the end of the list. And… he’s not doing it for free.”

She groaned audibly at that.

“Of course not. What do you owe him? I can wire you some cash, if you need it, just tell me how much.”

“It’s not like that.”

The fire hissed as the kettle began to boil over, and Steve stood, carefully removing it and pouring the contents into the tub before filling the next one.

“Then what’s it like, Steve?” She asked, and she sounded so tired, so wary, that he wished he could just hug her. Tell her that it was okay, that he was going to make it okay.

“Apparently the-- this, what we’re doing, it releases a lot of power. Saving Bucky won’t use all of it. And he needs my permission for some reason to be able to keep the rest.”

“How much power? Because this sounds a bit like handing a crazy guy a nuke.” She said flatly.

“I also owe him a favor, carte blanche. I’m not any happier about it than you are, but what other choice do we have? I can’t just… not do something.” He immediately regretted taking his frustration out on her.

“I know.” She said it softly, and that tore him up further. Strengthened his resolve that much more. “Just… be careful, Steve. If this doesn’t work… I don’t think I can handle losing both of you at once.”

It was the rawest, most scared sounding he’d ever heard her, and he instantly wished he could _be there_ for her right now.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise. And… I won’t leave here until Loki holds up his end of the bargain. You’ll see, it’s going to be okay. We’ll know… in just a few hours. Loki needed prep time.”

He transferred the next pot into the tub and started another.

“And you?” She asked.

He shrugged, though he knew she couldn’t see it.

“Even at its worst, how bad could it be?” He asked, which was, he realized too late, the wrong thing to say.

“Bad.” She told him bluntly. “I’m going to have someone in position in a few hours. Call me when it’s done, and if you need help... I wish this wasn’t how-- I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

Steve smiled sadly into his cell phone.

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You know me, you know how strong I am.”

He was sure she still had misgivings, but she was kind enough not to voice them. Not to add to all the ones that were already squirming in his gut.

“I’ll call you.” She promised. “If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thanks Nat. Take care of yourself. And… tell Bruce to keep an eye on him. I don’t know what it will look like, but… it’s coming.”

“Thank you Steve. And be careful. Be safe.”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up before he could be caught out, his eyes starting to tear up.

She wished this wasn’t how his first time was going to be. Him too.

He’d thought it would be Bucky. Briefly, he’d thought it might be Peggy, but it had always been one of the two of them, in his dreams.

Now it was going to be Loki instead.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted, but this was the reality of it, and he knew it was best this way. He’d be doing some good. Being useful.

His nerves felt like he was going into Howard’s science fiction medical chamber again, which was stupid. It wasn’t a big change, didn’t have to mean anything. Wouldn’t mean anything, other than that Bucky would be safe. Most of the world wouldn’t even know. Hell, most people assumed he was politely making time with ladies left and right. All part of the modern American dream, or so he’d gathered.

He filled the rest of the bath with lukewarm water, offsetting the heat of the boiling stuff so it didn’t burn him.

The end result was only somewhat more than warm, but he’d had far worse in his time, and even without being hot, the water did allow his muscles to relax a bit, and did the job of cleaning the mud off.

His legs stuck out of the tub almost comically, and if not for the fireplace he’d be freezing. But he ignored that, and concentrated on trying to relax, to clear his mind. That proved impossible, though, and trying to push the thoughts away was making his pulse pound all the harder.

So instead he closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like, tried to replace the fantasies he’d had about Bucky with Loki’s face. He started the way he always had, when he did this. Picturing Bucky laughing at something he’d said. But Bucky had always been safe, always been warm, and Loki was danger and fear, couldn’t be trusted. He was sharp-- sharp angles in his face, in the way he held himself, the way he spoke, sharp edges even on his smiles.

Steve shivered.

He’d figure it out. He’d make himself respond. He could do this-- he _would_. He had to.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but when he laid down, he kept turning it over in his head, thoughts of Bucky, and trying to put Loki in their place. Trying to get used to the idea.

Sleep came over him suddenly, all at once, and his dreams only continued that, where it would be Loki one moment and Bucky the next, hands moving over him, voices rising and lowering, while he tried to remember how he was supposed to respond, to each of them in turn. He wanted Bucky and shouldn’t, he had to want Loki and didn’t, but he’d make himself react--

\--it wasn’t particularly restful, all told. Even the parts that were just Loki talking to him. But he didn’t remember what was said when he woke.

He rose with the dawn. Which didn’t actually help matters; the shops didn’t open at dawn.

He texted Nat.

> _How is he?_

And got back a near instantaneous-

>> _Stable. For the moment. You?_

> _Stable. For the moment. Headed to meet Loki shortly._

>> _My agent’s in place, if you end up needing her. Even if not, she’ll be your ride back._

_> Thanks Nat. I’ll let you know when it’s over._

 

He was sure she hadn’t slept, or if she’d gotten any rest, it was only in the form of a few minutes of stolen sleep here and there. He knew she’d been trained for that, but it didn’t loosen the knot in his chest for her any.

How many days now had it been? Was someone reminding her to eat?  


He knew she was strong. That Bucky was strong. But he knew, too, that he needed to do this and then get back to them. As soon as possible. Needed to do everything he could for them. They were too important to him for anything else.

That in mind, he cleaned up and packed up-- taking the toilet paper roll from the bathroom and packing it alongside his extra underpants. And a towel. Just to be safe.

He had no idea what to expect, exactly. Outside of the things he had heard, and read, and seen. But nothing that felt real.

He didn’t think he’d ever even spoken earnestly about sex with anyone in his life… and now he had to go have it.

He went downstairs, unable to summon an appetite, and asked for directions to a shop that would sell him lubricant, able to feel his face burning just at the question.

The elderly man who ran the hotel was unfazed, unflappable, and confirmed Steve’s thought that the general store here would have to account for everything.

He thanked him, tipped him for the trouble (and Steve’s own embarrassment), and hurried off in that direction.  


By the time he was about halfway up the mountain to Loki’s cave, he was hungry in spite of himself, but he hadn’t thought to bring any food.

He pushed on, certain it was for the best. After all, no food in his stomach meant nothing to puke up after.

The cave was dark inside when he arrived, again,  and he was struck by a sudden fear--

_What if Loki ran. What if he hadn’t wanted to be found, and now he was, he had to go find a new bolt hole. What if he agreed just to make sure Steve gave him a head start?_

But then as his eyes adjusted, he noticed a faint light, shining from what he’d thought was just a solid sheet of rock-- a wall.

“Loki?” He called, and was rewarded with the wall _crumpling_ just a moment later, and Loki looking around the curtain, almost as if embarrassed.

 

“I apologize; I did not hear your approach. Come in.”

He stepped out of the hidden room and gestured, looking past Steve when he moved forward, obviously suspecting that he’d been followed.

“It’s just me.” Steve felt the need to assure him. The last thing he wanted was for Loki’s paranoia to make him void their deal.

“So it would seem.” He responded, following Steve in and pulling the curtain shut behind them.

Steve turned to look at it from the inside and was surprised to find that it looked like rock from here, too. He reached out to touch it, and found it solid, even pressing against it, but it didn’t move.

“It’s magic.” Loki offered drily, and Steve felt his face heating as he turned back towards his host.

“Right.” He answered, not sure what else to say.

“Right.” Loki echoed mockingly, and Steve’s face continued flushing as he felt Loki’s eyes travel down him. But Loki’s expression softened. “Come, sit down. I just made some tea. Join me.”

Steve had been just about to ask if they should get right to it, but he bit his tongue-- apparently not.

Obediently he sat, though he wasn’t sure he could stomach some kind of exotic tea.

Loki passed him a cup, pulling another from thin air for himself and filling it silently.

He’d only made one, intended for him, which meant Steve could be sure that this one wasn’t poisoned. Which was nice. Though it was also a bit of a moot concern; Loki had a thousand ways to attack him outside of poison, and all of them would be successful right now. Not to mention how much more able he’d be to cause harm, shortly.

He took a sniff of the tea to hide his disquiet, and was surprised to recognize the smell of peppermint.

“Mint and chamomile. Very calming.” Loki noted, almost detachedly, and stirred his bag through the hot water.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asked, surprised. He would have assumed Loki would be… excited, or maybe just detached and business-like.

“All intimacy involves a certain amount of vulnerability, Captain. I know that you are untouched-- but that does not make you the only one sleeping with an enemy today.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He told him, instantly and without thinking. The second his mind caught up, he felt embarrassed. That wasn’t what Loki had been saying, and he knew that. Besides, he knew he wasn’t going to be in any position to hurt him.  


“You would have to try very hard to do that.” Loki observed drily, confirming Steve’s thoughts. “And I would not have agreed, if I thought you meant to. No, Captain. I am nervous, not afraid. But what about you?”

“I’m fine.” Steve insisted. “I’m ready to go-- whenever you are. I did what you said, I washed and I brought back lube.” He hurried and sat the tea down, accidentally sloshing it over the back of his hand while he went for the lube in his pocket.

Loki made a slight tittering sound and picked up a napkin, reaching forward to capture Steve’s hand. He mopped the liquid off, and Steve knew it probably would have been hot enough to burn him, if not for the serum. Loki appeared to be noticing that, too.

“I’d forgotten that you are made different from most humans.” Loki said, words still quiet.

Steve wondered if this was part of it, somehow, this hushed atmosphere he was creating. He’d called it intimacy-- maybe he was trying to make it be that. Steve wasn’t sure-- he didn’t think that was what he’d expected. Wasn’t sure he wanted it.

“Yeah, yeah I am. So… I’m good, really.” He pulled his hand away. “You don’t need to baby me.” His voice sounded too loud, in comparison.

Loki sat back and raised his eyebrow, almost like a challenge.

“Tell me, Captain. For Midgardians, is this not something important? Do your people not assign some momentousness to this occasion? I am not sure how the magic will react to the offer, if it does not hold the same consideration, the same gravity, as it does elsewhere.”

Steve felt a thread of panic hit his chest-- and that made sense, in a way. You didn’t sacrifice something meaningless. He needed this to work.

“It’s… in honesty, it’s more important for women. Men tend to just… they want to get out there, make time with whoever’s willing. In my time, girls were supposed to wait til marriage. Well, both guys and girls, I guess, but it was much more forgivable for a man not to.”

Loki watched him, considering.

“But is it important to _you_? That is the true deciding factor, in this.”

Steve lifted his shoulder noncommittally. But he knew he had to be honest.

“There’s a reason I haven’t done it yet. Not out of-- not that I don’t want to, or that I’m… squeamish. Just… the people I wanted… I couldn’t um. Be with.” He finished lamely. “It’s… always been important to me that it be with the right person.”

He couldn’t quite look Loki in the eye, after that.

“And instead you have me.” Loki said quietly, and he sounded regretful. “I am sorry for that. And I hope that your friend is worth this sacrifice-- that he understands the value of what you are doing for him.”

Steve shrugged, and, because it wasn’t like it would make any difference, added, “I love him.”

It was strange, saying it out loud, saying it _to Loki_ , of all people. But it also wasn’t as earth shattering as he’d expected. He’d expected the weight in his chest to move to his tongue and hang heavy in the air, but that wasn’t it at all. They were just words, there and gone.

It made him feel a little hollow, actually. Like he’d given something up, lost something… he breathed in, trying to silence the thought that hissed in his mind, _not yet you haven’t_.

But Loki just nodded.

“I thought you might. And I wish you the courage to tell him as much, when he is healed.”

He stood and turned away, leaving Steve to watch him, unwilling to tell Loki that it wouldn’t make a difference. Loki pulled a stone bowl from a shelf, and Steve watched his movements, eyes skirting away from the bed that he now stood beside.

“I have this bowl- it is what I will use to catch and house the excess power we will create. I will need to bind you to it, first and foremost, before we can begin anything.”

Steve breathed a little easier as Loki became more business-like, and he stood as well.

“You can finish your tea,” He offered, sheepish. “I didn’t mean to pull you away from that. I just can’t… It’s sex. It’s going to be intimate enough without us… without playing like we care about one another.”

Loki’s shoulders stiffened, and Steve could see him forcing himself to relax.

“I am trying only to build the energy spiral as high as possible. That requires that we treat this as a significant occasion. It requires some _care_ , Captain. And if you are not capable of playing at caring for me, then you can sit back and be silent, and let me do what I must.”

Guilt rose like bile in Steve’s throat, and he shook his head, trying to find words.

“That’s not-- I didn’t mean that. I can. I just thought… it would be easier.”

Loki turned back towards Steve, his face carefully expressionless.

“Believe me, none of this is made easier by rushing into it, though I know that is your usual strategy. Now, I need to bind you to the power receptacle. Hold this.”

He held the bowl out to Steve, who took it hesitantly. It was heavier than it looked, somehow denser than any stone he’d ever lifted, and, despite its size, it felt like it weighed as much as a person.

But of course, Loki was stronger than he looked, just like Steve was. It was no surprise that he had been able to move it with ease.

Loki wasn’t just magic; he was physically powerful as well. And the reminder added another layer of apprehension. Because he’d asked how bad it could be, and Natasha had been right.

With that kind of force behind it, if Loki did decide to hurt him, it could be _bad_.

Loki turned his back for a moment, taking a stoppered bottle of purple liquid from a shelf next to his bed, and returned to pour the entire bottle into the bowl.

“What is that?” Steve asked, blinking with surprise as the liquid swirled with a silvery iridescence that brightened even the dark stone. It almost seemed to glow, though if it did, the light was so soft he couldn’t be certain he saw it at all.

“Moonlight. The elves bottle it in a liquid form. It has the ability to take in power, absorb it for a time, and then release it back without damaging or weakening it.”

Steve clenched the bowl more tightly out of surprise. _Moonlight_?

Loki noticed and he smiled, though it seemed somewhat mocking.

“You needn’t look so impressed, Captain. It is hardly rare or difficult to acquire, where it comes from. And it isn’t as though you haven’t seen it before, albeit in other forms.”

“Yeah, but-- you’re talking about elves and liquid moonlight. None of that is even remotely in the realm of reality as I know it.”

Loki shrugged.

“You’ll get used to it.” he said simply, then nodded at the bowl. “Now spit.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. Loki, watching, sighed impatiently.

“I have to drink it later, and it requires bodily fluid from you. Spit or semen is traditional, and I’d really rather the former, so--”

Even before Loki had finished speaking, Steve was letting saliva drip from his mouth into the bowl.

“Thank you.” Loki told him, somewhat sardonically, before he took it away, stirring the mixture together with his finger. He didn’t speak any sort of incantation, but he did gesture over it, green and gold lights spreading over the liquid before it absorbed them.

The room descended into stillness and silence.

“Now can we get started?” Steve asked, antsy and trying not to fidget.

Loki set the bowl beside his bed and sighed, then nodded.

 

“Yes. _Now_ we can get started.” Loki pulled at the ties on his outer layer- a wraparound sleeveless thing over a long sleeved shirt, which he pulled off quickly and without wasting any time on shyness. His shirt followed, up and over his head, leaving his hair mussed and the pale and hairless planes of his torso exposed.

Which was no more than what Steve saw, at least semi often, in parks and at gyms, but for all his impatience, he suddenly felt like everything was moving too fast.

Loki seemed to notice as well, and though he frowned, Steve watched him purposely smooth the annoyance from his face before he spoke.

“Is this not what you had in mind, when you said we should get started?” He asked, tone only the slightest bit sharp.

“Sorry. I just haven’t ‘gotten started’ before.” Steve said, standing. He unzipped his jacket and lay it across the chair he’d been sitting in, but startled when he turned back and Loki was right in front of him.

He didn’t _quite_ flinch when Loki’s hands went to the button at his neck, but he did raise his hand, brushing Loki’s away to unbutton his shirt himself.

“This won’t work if you won’t allow me to touch you.” Loki observed dryly, and Steve swallowed, then let his hands fall, let Loki resume undressing him.

The buttons came undone quickly, and Loki huffed a soft laugh.

“I’ve been accused of over layering, before-- and here _you_ are.”

Steve pulled his arms out of his sleeves and looked down at his undershirt. He would have pulled it off, just to save himself the embarrassment, except that Loki had crowded in even closer to him, and was running barely there touches around the neckline, where the thin fabric was doubled for the seam.

“You’re not the one who had to climb a mountain in the rain.” he told him, thinking again of his offer of the use of his room at the inn.

“Hm, yes, but mild exertion is _such_ a good look on you.” Loki all but purred, making a show of looking down his chest.

Steve swallowed again and Loki’s eyes followed the motion up to land squarely on his face.

He smirked, and it widened into a grin as his touch ranged lower, and Steve couldn’t keep the muscles of his lower stomach from jumping in surprise.

“So unused to touch, Captain. I would call it a pity and a waste, were it not so useful to us now.”

Loki’s voice had dipped low and so had his hand, which was tugging at the stretchy fabric, pulling it free of the waistband of his jeans.

Steve couldn’t stay still any longer, and he caught Loki’s wrist, stilling it.

“Don’t.” He said shortly.

“If you’re unwilling, I won’t do this.” Loki released him instantly, the playful expression and predatory posture falling away in a heartbeat.

Steve shook his head.

“I’m willing, and I need us to do this. But don’t mock me, don’t try to seduce me, don’t-- is there anything saying I can’t… for lack of better word, be the aggressor?”

Loki studied his face warily and silently shook his head no.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, watching him as though he was looking for the trap. “Have you any idea of what you are doing?”

“Guide me. Don’t… quit trying to be so-- I don’t know. I know you’ve done this before and I haven’t, but I also know you’re not as sure of yourself as you’re pretending to be so… just stop doing that. It’s… intimidating. What?”  Steve asked, as Loki tilted his head, and one side of his mouth pulled upwards.

“Oh, nothing.” He said, brushing it off. “So, you wish to lead. Pray tell, what do you have in mind to happen next?”

Steve looked at the bed and swallowed again, then nodded. “We finish undressing. And then… get on the bed, I guess.”

Loki smirked, and Steve could see where he was biting the inside of his lip. Biting back a comment, no doubt. But at least he was taking him seriously. Wasn’t mocking him.

And he’d learned something else valuable as well-- Loki would stop when he told him to.

That was… a lot more than he’d expected, and he was sure Natasha would feel better, when he told her. If he told her. But he had to not think about Natasha right now. Had to focus on this.

“You know,” Loki said, looking up from where he was undoing the laces of his pants. “I could take his form for you, if you like. I could be your Bucky, if it would make this easier for you to… swallow.” The faintest hint of another smile graced his lips, and Steve felt his eyes go round.

“That’s--"

“I’d need to use a memory of yours for the image, however, so you should think if you are comfortable with me in your head, before you agree.” Loki continued.

He stepped on the heel of his boot, reaching down to help it off before removing the other. All very nonchalant, as if he offered to have sex with people as their best friends every damn day.

Steve cleared his throat.

“Even if you didn’t-- the answer would still be no. That’s not right, that’s not--”

“I rather doubt he has any say in your doing this for him, though he will doubtless feel responsible for it later. And I’m sure he wouldn’t begrudge you whatever would make it easier for you, if he is as good a friend as you think. Besides--” Loki raised his voice to speak over Steve’s next objection. “Then you might consider this just practice for the real thing. And finally, I doubt that I, as I am, do anything for you.”

He nodded meaningfully at Steve’s pants.

“We haven’t even started yet!” Steve protested, half afraid that this had already gone wrong, that he was somehow defective. But he knew that wasn’t the case, knew as much about his body as the next guy who just hadn’t been _with_ anyone yet.

He cleared his throat.

“No, this is-- I’m doing this with you. Not with Bucky. I want to remember that.” And if this went horribly, he didn’t want to associate it with Bucky’s face.

Loki sighed, but nodded, turning to drop his pants and step out of them.

Steve hurried to catch up, averting his eyes from Loki’s bare butt.  
Even though he’d only seen it briefly, it was… surprisingly nice. Firmer looking than he expected?

Steve wasn’t sure he had the vocabulary to say what he liked about it, but he could flash on about half a dozen paintings that the shape of Loki reminded him of.

He flushed, stepping out of his own clothes, well aware that if Loki knew what he was thinking, he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing long enough to have sex with him.

He got his clothing set aside and turned back around, fighting the urge to cup his hands over his penis.

There wouldn’t be much point in it, anyway. Loki was going to see eventually.

He lifted the lube he’d brought and handed it to Loki.

“Thank you.” Loki took it, holding it almost gingerly. “I assume you mean to watch me, then?”

“I uh-- if you want privacy, I can--” He looked around, looking for another room to step into, then ended up shuffling so that he was facing away. “That alright?” He asked.

Loki huffed out a little laugh, though it came out slightly strangled, and did not hide the sound of the cap opening and a squirt of lubricant coming out.

“I do not mind your watching, Captain, if it will aid you in your effort to become aroused. Only-- you have asked that I not mock you. I would ask the same.”

The vulnerability in Loki’s voice made Steve look back towards him sharply.

“Uh.” He said, blinking in surprise.

Loki was laid on his back on his bed, hand lubed, as he stroked two fingers over his hole, his dick going utterly unattended.

“Is there a problem, Captain? If this disgusts you, I can go elsewhere. Wouldn’t want you to soften from it.”

Loki’s words had an edge to them, though, a prickliness under the offer. And maybe an annoyance as well; Steve hadn’t hardened at all, yet.

“No, it’s-- it’s not disgusting, I just. I thought you’d be… I figured you’d want to be inside of me, and not the other way around.”

Loki stopped moving, and a for a moment, Steve was sure he wasn’t even breathing.

“You were prepared to be unmanned-- by _me._ ” Loki sounded like he didn’t believe him, his voice flat.

“I thought-- you said to wash myself, and… I figured you were, you know. Not-- like me.”

Loki snorted at his difficulty in laying voice to his thoughts, and Steve shook his head, refusing to let it get to him.

“And-- unmanned? It’s not like this is going to change anything, except for saving Bucky.”

Loki sat up, shrugging.

“If you say so. But is that what you want? It seems to me it would be easier this way, so that you needn’t fear injury. I have taken men before; it will be nothing new to me.”

Steve thought through that one, turning it over.

“You have the experience. Whatever you think is best.” He settled on, finally.

Loki smirked.

“Perhaps we should base it on you- whether you can perform as needed.” He arched a brow and nodded, again, toward Steve’s penis.

“I-- yeah, I can, give me just a minute.” Steve didn’t turn away, but he also didn’t look at Loki, instead focusing on the sort of things that had worked in the past. Imagining Peggy, or Bucky… but it was impossible to forget he was being watched.

Still, his body responded to the touch, dick stirring to life in his palm.

On the bed, Loki made a noise of satisfaction, and slid closer.

“Here.” He offered his hand, with a palmful of lube cupped in it. Steve stepped in to wipe it off, to transfer it to his own hand, but instead Loki clasped his hand and got up, moving before Steve quite understood what was going on.

He ended up behind him and reaching around, lubed skin settling against Steve’s own hand, while Loki’s dick, already at least partially hard, pressed against Steve’s ass.

“Let me help you.” Loki said, speaking over his shoulder. “You don’t have to look at me, or at anything. Close your eyes.” His voice was soothing, more calming than Loki’s voice had any right to be.

Steve still couldn’t bring himself to obey, and Loki made a small noise that might be mirth.

“At least take your hand away. Allow me to do this for you. I promise, it will feel good.”

Steve pulled his hand away, though he was left unsure what to do with it. At least until Loki got a good grip on him and began moving. Then he ended up grabbing onto Loki’s arms, both the one tugging at him and the one wrapping around his ribs to hold him against Loki’s chest.

He let out an undignified sound- somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

“-- _Loki_ \--”

Loki didn’t answer, but he did jerk a little, a shiver or maybe just the urge to thrust his hips upwards, the way Steve was doing, quickly restrained. He kept his movements even and regular, though he began rolling his wrist, twisting his grip on Steve’s shaft as he worked him.

 

Steve muffled another groan and let his eyes close, let his head loll on his neck a little, experiencing a conflict as his body felt loose, but his core, his stomach, and his balls began tightening. He was aware of the points of contact between them, not only their hands and arms, but the way his head was resting on Loki’s shoulder, Loki’s hair brushing over his face.

Of course, it didn’t last. Couldn’t.

Loki released him before he could come, and Steve groaned in frustration.

 

Loki stepped back and Steve turned to face him, chasing after the friction even though he understood why he’d stopped. Steve’s hand was cupping himself now, and he was working to resist the urge to finish what Loki had begun.

But he felt his eyes pulled downward, once he was facing him, looking for visual confirmation of what he’d felt.

Loki was beautiful, but, more importantly, Loki was _hard_.

“So what is your decision, Captain?”

“Steve.” Steve said, though his voice, his mouth, felt disconnected from his brain.

“Steve, then.” Loki inclined his head in agreement.

“Decision?” Steve asked, finally tearing his eyes upward to look Loki in the face. He seemed-- concerned, maybe. And still sharp, while Steve felt foggy and dumb. Sex-stupid.

“As to your role in this.” Loki prompted, with more patience than Steve would have expected.

Steve looked him up and down again, stepping backwards to get a better view, and Loki’s dick twitched under his gaze.

“I’m worried about hurting you.” He said, finally. “And you’ve done this before, so you know… how things should go.”

Loki inhaled, eyes flashing as his face shuffled through a dozen micro expressions before Steve could even begin to name them.

“I will be gentle.” Loki promised. “And I will do my best to ensure that you enjoy everything I do to you.”

After what he’d managed to do with his hands in just the space of a couple of minutes, Steve didn’t doubt it.

“But you have to allow me to take things slowly with you. I know you do not wish to drag this out any longer than needs must, but the surest way to cause harm is to hurry.”

Considering he was talking about being in a hurry to be _inside of Steve_ , he was alright with that.

“Yeah, okay.”

Loki arched a brow, and he wondered if he’d come off as too eager, all of a sudden.

“And I will stop if you ask it of me.” Loki promised, stepping in closer to Steve, clearly with the intent of moving forward. Steve let himself be steered backwards towards the bed, biting his tongue to keep from saying what he was thinking, slightly disjointed fragments about, _I know, I know you’ll stop._ And _I can’t ask you to stop, though, I need this. For Bucky._

Loki had backed him up until his legs hit the bed, and he sat down, bouncing a little in the process.

Loki smiled, apparently amused by his expression. He reached in, lifting Steve’s face, and leaned down, but Steve pulled away.

“Don’t. I--” He’d been kissed before, given kisses before. It wasn’t as intimate as what they were about to be doing, as what Loki had already done to him, and he didn’t have any good reason not to want Loki to kiss him, other than that this wasn’t love, wasn’t care, not like that, and…

Loki smiled down at him.

“Of course.”

Instead, he turned the touch into a stroke, running his hand along the side of Steve’s face.

“So brave, Captain, so good. So innocent.”

Steve couldn’t tell if that idea made Loki bitter or turned him on, but either way, he broke away from the contact and pushed Steve down. Steve bit back his words about not being so innocent-- he figured he had Loki beat for people he’d killed, at least on Earth, but that didn’t seem particularly relevant right now.

“Spread your legs for me, Steve.” Loki instructed, and Steve did, heart pounding again at how fast this was going, despite what Loki had said about going slowly.

Loki lifted him from the knees, raising his feet up to rest on the edge of the bed, and Steve sat up, confused.

“Relax.” Loki instructed, lowering his voice soothingly. “I am going to open you up.”

Which Steve didn’t find relaxing at all, though Loki had made it sound like that was preferable to the unnamed alternative.

He lay back down and let his head fall backwards, staring up at the roof of the cave, trying to focus on that-- and because of his inattention, he flinched-- hard-- when Loki’s wet fingers touched his asshole.

“Cold?” Loki asked, withdrawing, and Steve nodded his head quickly. The touch hadn’t been long enough for him to register a temperature, but better he say it was that rather than him being surprised. After all, he should have expected it.

He closed his eyes, tensing for the touch to return, for Loki to start pushing his fingers into him.

Instead, he felt Loki moving between his legs, felt something like a warm breeze, and then something inside of him _shifted_. He opened his eyes, looking down just in time to see the green gold shimmer of Loki’s magic as it faded out.

Loki met his eyes, past Steve’s flagging erection, and, without breaking the gaze, leaned in until he was there, his breath ghosting over the slight damp that his fingers had left behind.

Steve opened his mouth to object, but all that came out was a strangled sounding groan when Loki’s tongue came into contact with his incredibly sensitive skin.

“Woah!” He said, sitting up and pulling away from Loki as it registered exactly what had just happened, what he was doing.

Loki arched his eyebrow at Steve and sat up, too, meeting him eye to eye again.

“Problem?” He asked pointedly.

“I-- _yeah_ , that’s... isn’t that gross? You don’t have to do that.” There was an awkwardness to his protest though, a questioning aspect that he wouldn’t think needed to be there, since they were talking about Loki _licking his ass_ , but Loki just looked so surprised to have been stopped.

“It isn’t gross. I cleaned you first, and even had I not, it is hardly the worst thing one could do. Not the _grossest_ thing I have done in bed, to be sure.” Loki smirked at him, and Steve’s brain did a flip trying to guess at what the suggestive tone of his voice was implying. But there was no time or room for that; he was on a mission, and he’d just stopped some aspect of it from happening. He just needed to figure out if it was necessary and what he was expected to do.

“So that... Do you do that every time? To uh, open someone up?”

Loki sighed, but when he spoke, it was still patient.

“Only if I want them to enjoy it. Captain-- _Steve_. I realize this is all new to you, but you have to trust me, if only for a time. If only in this. I know what I am doing, and I am not going to hurt you. If there is something you truly do not enjoy, or if you are in pain, of course tell me immediately. First, because I would not wish to do that to you, and second because it will taint the energy of the spell. And neither of us want that. So try and enjoy yourself, yes?” He waited, obviously expecting Steve to object, but the reminder-- they were _both_ there for a reason. And it helped, somehow, knowing that Loki had selfish reasons not to want to make this harder for Steve.

Though he felt bad about that-- he was supposed to be the guy who saw the best in people.

“Now, if it makes you truly uncomfortable, I do not have to open you with my mouth. But if it is just that you are unsure, at least try it first. Believe me-- a tongue can be very enjoyable, very pleasant. And it’s warmer than my fingers, while still working you open so that you do not tear when we move on.”

“And you-- do you prefer it?” Steve was thinking of Loki’s words, how he’d used the term ‘unmanned’ before. He knew there was always some level of disgust around two men having sex; it was true here and it seemed it was true on Asgard as well. And it felt like… if anything was going to feel like it was debasing Loki, it would be this.  


Loki seemed to consider.

“Part of enjoying sex is enjoying the pleasure you’re giving to the other person. I am sure, for you, that will mean… care, and love, and all of the sentimental reasons to enjoy it. But there are other reasons as well. The satisfaction of a job well done, perhaps, or a feeling of power over your partner.” Loki shrugged. “In short, everyone gets something different out of each act. I would not volunteer to do anything I did not enjoy-- again, it goes counter to what we need for the spell.”

Steve lowered himself back into position, hands clenched  together over his stomach.

“Go ahead, then. If you’re sure you want to.”

Loki sighed and moved himself back into position, but didn’t begin right away, so Steve looked up at him, not sure what he was waiting for.

“You need to relax. You have to let yourself enjoy this. If you cannot, the energy will be wrong, and we will be unable to heal your Bucky. Just… imagine it is him doing it to you, if you wish. Or think of yourself doing it to him.”  


Both seemed like violations-- but at least Loki wasn’t offering to _be_ Bucky again. Steve took a deep breath.  


“Close your eyes.” Loki urged him. “As I said, I won’t do you any harm. And you can tell me if you dislike what I do. But if it’s me making you nervous, the fact that I am me, you can close your eyes. I won’t be offended. Or I can be anyone else that you like.”

Steve stared down at Loki, trying not to think about how weird it was to see him, being nice and earnest while framed by Steve’s legs. And especially with Steve’s mostly softened dick in the foreground of his view.

“You’re being awfully good about all of this.” He said.  


Loki laughed, though it was oddly mirthless.

“And you are being difficult and suspicious.” He returned. Steve grimaced, chastened.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“You did. But you are afraid because you do not know what to expect. Which is why I am attempting to-- I am trying to come at this as a teacher, but if that is not helping…”

His words trailed off, leaving him looking a little lost. Steve bit his lip.  


“Sorry.” He said again. “I’m sorry, I know, I’m wasting time, and every time I slow it down-- Bucky’s still suffering.” He exhaled sharply. “I guess I just want to get this over with. And if I get hurt-- I’ll heal, it’s fine. But all of the-- the foreplay--” It was ridiculous, he knew, how he flushed and stumbled over the word, while lying on his back, completely exposed. But there it was.

Loki’s smile was almost sad, and Steve didn’t have time to try and decode it.  


“You’ve no concept of foreplay. I was only attempting physical preparation, but… I will compromise. Give me ten minutes. That’s all I ask, time just enough to ease the way. You’re not the only one it will hurt, if you aren’t prepared. And then I will take you and it will be done. Is that acceptable?”  


Steve swallowed, but nodded.

Bucky could last for ten minutes, and if that meant he would be better able to get out of here afterwards, to get back to Nat and Bucky and take care of them…

“Okay. Sure.” His mouth was dry and Loki was right; he was afraid. But this didn’t have to mean anything; he didn’t have to let it. No matter what Loki did to him. And he’d heal, even if Loki said he wasn’t going to hurt him. He was rushing him, and he’d said that was how injuries happened. But Steve was no stranger to injuries-- just a stranger to injuries _there_.  

Loki’s fingers touched his asshole and he flinched again, but Loki just wrapped his other hand around Steve’s cock. And this time Steve was aware enough of the contact to notice that it was wet and… warmer than he’d expected.

“I need you to try not to be so deep in your own head.” Loki told him, his voice again gentle and soothing. “Make believe the situation is however you need it to be, but you have to stop worrying about him, if only for a few minutes. You need to feel good.”

Steve felt a flush of shame, because he hadn’t been worrying about Bucky; he’d been worrying about himself.

“I’ll do whatever, just tell me what, uh. What you need me to do.”

Loki frowned at him, and looked on the verge of withdrawing again.

“I mean, what I need me to do, I know it’s not-- I need this to happen.” Steve hastened to assure him.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Loki suggested. “Ground yourself in the moment by telling me what you feel. And do not be ashamed. I was where you were once, too. For different reasons, of course, but... Will it help if I promise not to use this against you? Not to throw it in your face? We may be enemies again after you leave, but there is no shame in this. In the act, or its results.”  


“Unless you end up using the power to hurt people. I might have reason to be ashamed then.” Steve had the presence of mind to say, despite the way Loki was still drawing circles around his clenched muscles with his finger.

“Hm. I don’t think shame is the appropriate response, even then. Anger, perhaps, at me.” Steve felt Loki press on his hole proper and tried to relax, but Loki seemed to decide he wasn’t ready yet. Embarrassed, Steve seized on to the conversation, rather than give Loki the opportunity to talk to him about his ass.

“I’d still feel shame, because I would’ve traded Bucky’s health and well being for the loss of however many people you end up hurting.It’s selfish, and in truth, that’ll probably hurt more than anything that could potentially happen here.”

Loki raised a brow.

“Well, I suppose that solves the riddle of how you keep in such good shape. Carrying the weight of the world around like that would certainly do the trick.”

It was a non-answer, and Steve swallowed.

“Just… put it in already. You aren’t going to hurt me with a finger.” _Probably_ , he thought.

Loki did as he asked, almost rolling his finger down the center of his hole until just the tip of it dipped inside. Steve bit his lip, able to feel as Loki began wriggling it into him-- it was strange, but not painful. Not really. Uncomfortable, at most. But he could feel the sawing motion, and he was grateful when Loki used the lube he’d brought to make it wetter.

Steve took a shaky breath.

“Alright so far?” Loki asked, and Steve pulled his eyes down from where they’d drifted up to stare at the ceiling, only to find Loki watching him, clearly concerned.

It was… weird. Almost as disquieting as the finger in his ass.

“It doesn’t hurt.” He said shortly, and Loki sighed, but focused his attentions downwards.

He pulled his finger out, added more lube, and pressed it back inwards, sliding in and out that way until Steve was a little more used to it. Then he added a second finger.

There was a stretch to that, but still--it didn’t hurt. It just felt… a little overwhelming. Steve clenched his mouth shut and pulled his hands into fists, refusing to say anything to stop it, but Loki slowed just the same.  


“Breathe, Steve. I know it is odd-- does it hurt?” He pulled his fingers out, checking them quickly, before returning them to Steve’s hole. He rested the tips of them there, not inserting them.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Steve repeated.

Loki sighed again.

“I don’t think we can do it this way.” He said, letting his hand fall away.

Steve hurried to sit up.

“No, we-- we need to--”

Loki shook his head.

“Get yourself hard, Steve, I’m going to open myself up. It should be a fairly quick process. At least this way, you’ll have an easier time of enjoying it. It seems, with you, that will be the majority of the work.”

“You think I’ll be less worried about me hurting you than I am about you hurting me?”

Loki regarded him levelly.

“I expect you’ll lose yourself in the sensation. Besides, I am experienced, and you are not. With any luck, you will not harm me, and even if you do, at the worst end of it, I will still heal.”

Loki had already coated his fingers and reached around behind himself, and Steve nearly shuddered at the remembered feeling of Loki’s fingers going into him. He didn’t want to say it but he was glad that was as far as they were going to get. He could have gone through with it, but… It was frankly wonderful not to have to.

“It sometimes takes time to learn to enjoy sex, but fortunately for you, the role you’ll play this way is much easier to catch on to.”

Loki didn’t even sound like he was particularly engaged, despite the fact that he had at least one, probably more, fingers inside of him.

Steve swallowed, and Loki gave him a meaningful look.

“You’re supposed to be making yourself hard. Or do I need to do everything?”

It was the first time that he sounded even a little impatient, despite all of Steve’s inability or unwillingness to cooperate, and Steve felt bad. He reached instantly for his dick and began tugging it, trying to will himself to stiffness.

It had felt good, Loki’s hand on him before. And, Steve realized, feeling another flush of shame, he hadn’t given Loki anything even close to that.

“Can I… can I try opening you up?” He could feel the blood rising to his face as he asked, but Loki was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

His mouth opened for a moment, he closed it, then he tried again.

“I thought you’d decided you weren’t here for an education.”

He sounded a little sharp, and Steve remembered what he’d said, the first time he’d talked about working himself open. When he’d asked not to be mocked. And Steve knew, first hand, now, how vulnerable it left you feeling.

He cleared his throat.

“You have to enjoy it too, right? And… you helped me, before.”

He wasn’t sure that this would do anything to help him now, but… maybe being at least a little familiar with Loki’s ass before he shoved himself up it would be a good thing.

He saw Loki swallow, watched his adam’s apple bob, and then he nodded, even though it was jerky.

“If you don’t enjoy it, tell me immediately and I can finish on my own. I’ve already-- it’s clean.” He told him, suddenly sounding more nervous than Steve was.  


And that made Steve feel a little better about how he’d felt before.

Loki returned to the bed and took Steve’s place there, laying down. He pulled his legs up, folding himself in half, and continued pressing his fingers-- two of them-- in and out of himself while he watched Steve, his eyes darker than Steve remembered them being before. Or maybe it was just the lighting.

Steve approached and sat himself just past where Loki’s feet were, turning sideways and crossing his legs so he could give Loki his full attention.

“Where’d the lube go?” He asked, and Loki offered it to Steve with his free hand.

“If-- if you’ll hold it in your palm for a moment before you put it on your fingers, it’ll warm a little.”

Loki told him.

Steve did as he asked, watching Loki’s fingers disappearing inside of him.

The angle looked awkward, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be much better off, from down here.

“Sit up?” He asked, and Loki pulled his fingers out and hurried to do as he asked. Steve stood and walked around so that he was beside Loki, no longer on the bed, but instead leaning over him. He guided Loki to lay back against the pillows, and Loki lifted his legs back up, exposing his hole again. Loki looked up at him, eyes wide and pupils wider, and Steve couldn’t tell if the expression he wore was trust or just lust, but it was… nearly overwhelming, either way.

“Tell me how to move,” he told Loki, as he pressed his middle finger to Loki’s opening.

It slid in easily enough, and Loki let his head fall backwards as he reached in as far as he could get… and the palm of his hand cupped at Loki’s balls. He pulled out, and was almost surprised by the thin, reedy breath that Loki drew in. He watched as he slid back into him, gratified at the tiny sounds Loki was making.

Only once he looked back up at Loki’s face did Steve notice that his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he felt a pang, wondering who Loki was thinking of.  
Or, worse, if he was just afraid of what expression he’d see Steve wearing.  


Loki licked his lips, and when he spoke, Steve could feel his breath. He hadn’t realized he’d leaned in so close-- close enough to kiss Loki, if he wanted.

“Your fingers are thicker than mine. You can put two in, but you’ll-- you’ll have to move slowly at first. Allow me to adjust.”  


Steve obeyed, adding his ring finger on his next outward stroke.

Loki was growing harder under his hand, and when he’d pressed both fingers in as far as they could go, Loki’s cock bobbed upwards to tap against Steve’s palm, and he couldn’t help but smile at that.  


He must have made a noise, because Loki opened his eyes.

“Are you laughing at me?” He asked, voice incredibly soft and small, and Steve was reminded again of how vulnerable it felt to be where Loki was no.

“No. Just-- glad I seem to be doing something right.” He nodded downwards, and Loki glanced to the side in response.

“Glad to see you aren’t unaffected.” He commented, perhaps a little wryly, and he lifted his hand to stroke at Steve’s erection, which had begun to stir again.

That surprised him. He wouldn’t have thought this would do it, particularly since it wasn’t someone he loved, or was in love with. But the little hitches in Loki’s breathing, the way he responded… there was a sort of power rush to it, like Loki had said. Even though his response to that power made Steve’s stomach flip uncomfortably, and he couldn’t help but think that if Erskine had known, he would never have been chosen.

“Hmm, thinking too much again.” Loki told him, and Steve realized he was barely moving his fingers, and Loki was staring up into his face from much too close.

“I uh--” he began, but Loki laid his head back against the headboard.

“Think about how I feel, around your fingers. Around your cock.” He tightened his grip around the latter, just a little.

“Soon, this will be inside of me. In that same tight heat that’s pulling at you, even now.” He tightened those muscles, next.

Steve felt his mouth fall open as he listened, and didn’t catch himself in time to stop a soft moan from slipping out of him.

Loki grinned up at him, the expression more open than anything that mischievous had any right to look.

“Does that sound good? You want that?” Loki asked, and Steve nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“I’m nearly ready.” Loki told him, apparently realizing he had Steve by the balls, or, more literally, by the shaft. “Pull your fingers apart. Stretch me open, move faster, and harder. Get me ready for when you start to slam in and out of me. I should ache before your cock ever touches my rim. Can you do that for me?”

Steve blinked, all of that sounding much more violent than he had expected, but Loki seemed more than ready to set the pace of what Steve should be doing by speeding up his strokes, so that Steve found himself matching it, even though he was worried he might hurt Loki. He was sure he’d be hurting a normal person right then, with as much force as he was driving those fingers into him.

Loki began losing his rhythm on Steve’s cock, and the _noises_ he was making--

“Oh yes, Steve, that’s-- uh--” his sentence trailed off, but he was writhing on Steve’s fingers now, bearing down to meet his hand’s thrusts. His cock was bouncing, and Steve wanted to lick it, to taste it, and the thought was so foreign, but…

He was hard as a rock now, too, as hard as he could get, and Loki made a sound like a small hiccup, squeaking a little.

“Alright, now stop, Steve.” He was trying to sound in control, but he sounded breathy; wrecked.

Steve stopped, sliding his fingers out slowly in case Loki was sensitive. He gave a little sigh when Steve pulled free, and Steve stared him in the face until he caught his breath and met Steve’s eye.

“Alright. Lube… lube on your cock now. It’s time. Are you-- ready?” he was panting, and his legs were shaking, but he didn’t seem as nervous as Steve would expect. Instead, he seemed… barely restrained. Excited, eager.

Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I’m-- fuck, can I--?” He slopped what felt like too much lube onto himself, almost wincing at the cold, but he knew it would warm up quickly once he was _inside_ _of Loki_.

“I’m ready. Do you need help?” Loki tried to sit up, but Steve moved quickly, kneeling with the tops of his knees hitting the backs of Loki’s thighs. He took hold of Loki’s legs and tugged him forward, into his lap as best he could, and Loki got his arms under himself, pushing his way upright. Steve had to help him, but once he’d managed, he was kneeling over Steve’s legs, one arm over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve held Loki by the ass, trying to guide himself in, and Loki reached under himself, taking hold of Steve to help.

Steve felt the head of his cock catch on the rim of Loki’s hole, and simultaneously heard the catch of Loki’s breath, and then-- god--

Then--

He was sliding in. Loki sank down onto him and Steve shuddered at the sound he made, like air was being pushed out of his lungs by the pressure of Steve filling him. Steve found himself groaning in response, making so much noise that he’d be embarrassed if Loki’s face wasn’t pink.

And, he noticed, the pink didn’t stop there. It spread over his shoulders, spilled over his chest.

Steve wished he could follow it, but then Loki was lifting himself, only a little way, and bouncing on him, and he was right; it was so  _tight_.

“Hang- hang on Loki, I’m not-- I might--” The embarrassment came back, and he was sure he was bright red, even as he tried to think of things that would stop him from coming in the next ten seconds.

“That’s rather-- the point-- isn’t it?” Loki reminded him. “Think-- think of James. Think of your Bucky.” His words sounded desperate and he hadn’t slowed his pace any, his hand coming around to light on his own cock. Steve found his eye drawn there, then drifting back up, wishing he could watch both Loki’s hand and his face at once.

“Think of James,” Loki insisted again, and Steve snapped out of it, remembering why he was there. Why they were doing this.

“I’m thinking of him.” He said, the reminder enough to back him down from the edge a bit.

“Good. Now imagine-- imagine that feeling in your stomach, that tightness. You know-- something good is going to happen soon, you can feel it. So much power there, winding up, so tight you might snap. I need you--” Loki had to stop speaking, searching for air when Steve’s cock leaped within him, and he squeezed it in reaction to whatever Steve had hit.

Loki gave a soft cry, panted, then pressed on.

“I need you to imagine that power as a light. Imagine J-Bucky as you saw him last. And imagine that light surrounding him.”

Loki stopped stroking himself to put both his hands on Steve’s shoulders, bouncing in earnest now, and Steve bit his lip, struggling to do as he said. He reached between them and replaced Loki’s hand with his own, only to realize it was too dry.

He licked down his palm and returned it to Loki’s shaft, and Loki shuddered.

“Focus, Rogers-- Barnes. Focus on healing Barnes.” He was all but snapping at him, and Steve grinned.

“I am. Promise.” He said, stroking Loki in time with his movements, even as he let his eyes fall shut.

He imagined Bucky laid out, hooked to all those machines, Nat sat beside him and Bruce nearby, overseeing things, doing everything they could-- waiting on Steve. But mostly he focused on Bucky, zoomed in in his mind until he was the only thing he was aware of.

He took a shaky breath and imagined that glow, just like Loki said, holding the image in his head as best as he could.

“That’s it, good.” Loki’s voice purred right beside his ear, and he didn’t know how he knew,  didn’t want to know.

“That’s it. Now come.” he demanded, his voice much clearer, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t in his head.

“You can do it. Feel me, imagine that glow growing brighter-- you’re saving him, Steve. Fuck me, and you’ll have saved Bucky. Come on.” His voice took on a harder edge, and something in Steve responded to it, his hands moving again to Loki’s ass, this time leveraging him up and pulling him down, and now he _was_ fucking Loki, using him, and he was-- he was _cumming_ …

The light in his mind’s eye grew, grew so bright and so large that he couldn’t contain it any longer, and he felt himself spilling inside of Loki, felt as his cock shot spurt after spurt, and even through all of that, he somehow managed to be distantly aware that he must be hurting Loki-- he was holding him so tightly--

He lifted and pulled him down one last time, sinking into him all the way, and felt his eyes open as he felt Loki beginning to spill on his abs.

He smirked at that, but Loki’s mouth dropped open and he fought free, scrambling off of Steve.

For a moment, he thought something was wrong, until he realized that Loki was going for the bowl-- catching his own release and doing something, drawing something on his chest with his own cum.

He seemed to have made it in time, though; Steve fell back onto the bed and was glad to see when the tension, the panic, bled out of Loki’s frame.

With his back still to Steve, he lifted the bowl to his lips, tilted his head back, and drank it dry.

Steve waited, heart pounding, and not entirely because of the sex.

“Did it--” He began, and Loki turned back to face him, licking the last of the shining, pearlescent liquid off his lips.

“It’s done.” He said, and returned to the bed to flop down on it beside Steve, apparently as wrung out as Steve was.

But Steve noticed a slight glow around Loki, just like the one he’d imagined around Bucky, though less bright, and he couldn’t be sure if it was truly there or not.

Loki sighed and shut his eyes, and Steve stumbled to his feet before he could get too comfortable.

Looking down at Loki, he couldn’t help but blush as he realized the guy was covered in semen- between what he’d smeared on himself, and the way Steve’s cum was dripping out from between his legs, he looked pretty thoroughly debauched. And with some of Loki’s cum on his abs, Steve had to imagine he didn’t look much better-- except for Loki had bruises, on his hips, and his thighs, and who knew where else. His chest felt tight and he swallowed.

“Do you need-- uh. Did I hurt you?” Steve asked, and Loki cracked one eye.

“You were the picture of a gentleman.” He said, words almost sarcastic.

“Loki,” Steve began, but Loki lazily waved his hand and suddenly Steve was cleaned and dressed.

“You can go.” Loki said, and rolled on his side, turning away from Steve.

He swallowed again and nodded, even though Loki couldn’t see it.

It didn’t feel great, heck, leaving him like this felt _wrong_ , but he supposed this was all Loki had agreed to-- they’d both gotten what they’d come for. So maybe this was just Steve being hung up on it-- not knowing how to act.

And he wouldn’t know until he got out to signal if it had even worked.

That thought was what finally made him turn towards the cave wall, glad to find it had turned into a curtain again.

He looked back and considered saying something else to Loki, but he looked like he’d fallen asleep. So Steve let him be.

Even if it did feel a little like cowardice.

 

The moment he was out in the main area of the cave, his phone rang. He answered it, glancing back towards the room to see if Loki had done something to make it possible, but the room was gone, the door he’d seen before completely closed, so it was just rock, solid and impenetrable.

“Hello?” He asked, heart in his throat.

“He’s awake.” Nat said. “Thirsty, confused, but… the fever’s gone. He’s alive, Steve.”

Steve let out his breath.

“It worked. Thank god. I’ll be there just as soon as--”

“Sit still. Your ride is coming to you. Steve I-- thank you. I know it was a lot, but--”

“Just don’t tell him, alright? Don’t tell him what I did. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” She said, and she sounded relieved enough that she might cry. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion catching up with her.

“Try and rest, Nat. I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up and heard the blades of the chopper before he saw it, hurrying outside without another backward glance.

Somehow, everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Loki had been true to his word. Bucky was better.

Everything was going to be alright.

He just wasn’t sure why the cold spot in his chest wasn’t gone, yet.

Maybe he wouldn’t believe it til he saw him for himself.  


\---

  


His body thrummed with all of the power in it, pulsing in time with his heart and all of his muscles.

_All of them._

He grimaced in distaste and cleaned himself, then the bed, rolling over like his limbs were made of iron.

He sighed and sealed himself in.

It had been… some time. Not only since he’d been fucked, but since he’d been so divided, forced to focus on so many things-- the sex and the movement, the spell, the power, Steve--

He inhaled deeply.

He didn’t feel guilt for what they had done. Steve had gotten what he’d wanted, and held up his end of the bargain to boot.

Loki hadn’t trusted, initially, that it wasn’t a trap. But men were honest when they thought they dreamed, and Steve in his sleep had…

Loki had spent the night speaking to the man. Questioning him, about his love for Bucky, about himself, about Bucky’s life. In the safety of Steve’s own mind, Loki believed every word he said, and the way Steve glowed when he spoke of it all… he believed it as well.

He was, truly, as good and kind and selfless as Loki was the opposite.

But it meant that when Steve had returned, Loki had had him at a disadvantage. He knew that everything was as it appeared, and more, that he held all of the cards. He could, easily, have taken all of the power and left Steve’s love to die. Steve wouldn’t even know until it was done.

But…

Perhaps it was his self imposed exile making him soft. The memory of his own first experience with sex and love chastening him, forcing him to behave better than he might have. Or the fact that spending a night with Steve before bedding him, he’d come to… respect the man.

Maybe it was just the man himself, and the way he seemed to think the best of people, seemed to make you want to be better, just to meet his expectations. At least when he didn’t feel threatened.

It had stung, the suspicion Steve leveled at Loki during the act, but he’d been able to remind himself that it was the only way Steve was able to express his fear.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut.

He hoped he hadn’t ruined it for him. That when he went back to his Bucky, he would be able to… unafraid of trying again.

This wasn’t ideal, wasn’t the way he would have chosen for him. If Steve weren’t in love, if Bucky weren’t dying, if Steve had come to him with any sort of interest for himself…

Loki stopped those thoughts. Because he hadn’t, and wouldn’t, and if not for the circumstances, it never would have happened. He would never have known.

And the jealousy in his chest, the realization that no one, in all of his long life, had ever loved him the way Steve loved his Bucky Barnes…

It left him feeling open, empty. Worthless.

Far more than this reminder of his nature did. This, he’d done enough that that ache was old, easily ignored. Something he was used to.

But Steve-- _wanting_ him, wanting what he represented-- that was new. And it _hurt_. But maybe that was just the pull of Steve’s power inside of him.

It knew where it truly belonged.

He pulled the blankets over himself and lay still, his eyes open and seeing nothing, as he let the magic settle into him. As he breathed and tried to hope that the power he’d gained would fill the hole in his chest, where it felt like he’d lost something. As he fought to keep it separate, so he did not mistakenly bespell Rogers into giving him what he wanted.

Because he didn’t want it, not like that.

He didn’t know if he slept. But he didn’t move for a long while.

\---

  


When Steve got there, he didn’t even stop to shower, despite his fear that Bucky would be able to tell just by looking at him, let alone smelling it on him. But.. Loki had cleaned and dressed him, and he didn’t want to waste any time.

He had to see for himself, reassure himself that it had been worth it.

Had to make sure Bucky was alright before he let himself actually relax.

As soon as the helicopter landed, his feet hit the ground and he was heading for the elevator that would take him to the medical levels.

When the doors chimed and opened, Nat was there waiting.

“Is he--?” He asked, nearly breathless.

“Still good. They’re running diagnostics right now, but… he seems fine. Like himself. It’s all… whatever it was, it seems to be gone now. How about you, are you alright?”

She didn’t usually show emotion, but they were both tired, and she looked like she hadn’t stopped smiling his entire flight back. So the worry on her face now felt out of place. Especially since it was so undeserved. If anything, he’d been the one to cause harm.

“I’m good, I’m fine. It was… easy.”

She let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad.” She told him, and clearly meant it.

He didn’t stop himself, grabbing her and pulling her in for a hug.

He cradled the back of her head gently, careful not to hurt her-- well aware he hadn’t been gentle enough with the last person he’d touched.

“Thank you, Steve.” She said, words muffled against his shirt, and he gave her a quick squeeze and then held her out so he could look her in the eye.

“Hey, like I said, if things were the other way around…” He lifted a shoulder and gave her a relieved grin.

“Are you sure you don’t want to… to talk to him? He might decide…” She trailed off, and with a pang, Steve realized she thought Buck would consider leaving her for him.

That wouldn’t have happened even before he had gone and had sex with Loki, of all people… it had even less chance of happening now.

He shook his head.

“You don’t know-- the time we grew up in, what this kind of thing… it wasn’t… I _couldn’t_ \--” he kept biting his words off, unable to fully express why he felt the way he did.

“He’s always liked women. And he _loves you_. That’s not gonna change just because he finds out that all those fights he got in over people calling me a fairy back in the day, well…” He could feel himself flushing.

At least before there’d been no real basis for the taunting. Now… now here he was, Steve Rogers, confirmed homosexual. He’d thought, when he’d had such strong feelings for Peggy, that the serum had cured him. But… apparently he’d been wrong.

It was more accepted now, he knew, but that wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. People accepted that they’d die one day; didn’t mean they liked it. And he’d spent so long fighting it. And Bucky… well, he doubted he’d be any more comfortable with it than Steve, himself, was.

“He can’t know. I don’t want him to treat me any different. Just… let’s forget it, okay? Forget this happened, forget… how I feel about him. He’s your guy, and… I just want my friend back. Alright?”

Natasha’s face was doing that thing where it danced between so many shadows of emotions as to be unreadable.

“Alright, Steve. But… listen, if you need to talk--” She started.

 

“You hens gossiping about me?” A voice interrupted, and they turned to see Bucky walking down the hall towards them, his steps wide and confident, like the grin on his face.

Steve found himself smiling back, and when he reached them, Buck bypassed Nat to sling an arm around Steve and give him a couple of thumps on the back.

This, Steve reminded himself. This was why he’d done it. This was what he stood to lose if Buck ever found out.

He pulled away, though, before Steve could hold onto him the way he wanted.

And then Bucky was wrapping his arm around Natasha’s shoulders and pulling her to his side.

“What’s this, though-- I’m out of action a few days, not even dead yet, and you’re already moving in on Nat?” he shot Steve a wink and Steve felt his throat getting tight, watching as Bucky pressed a kiss to Nat’s temple. “I completely understand.” He added, like it was an afterthought.

Natasha smacked him in the chest.

“Steve just got back from a mission, and last he saw you _were_ dying. Be nice.”

Steve huffed.

“If he was actively dying, I wouldn’ta left him. He was just _on his way_ to dying, so I figured it was okay.” He said. “And if he was nice, I’d wonder who the hell this was. Still… it’s good to have you back, Buck. You had all of us concerned.”

Bucky shook his head.

“You be careful; near as we can make out it was some sort of super soldier flu. I might still be contagious.” But the grin hadn’t left his face. “What’d they have you out doing that you couldn’t be here when I came to, though?”

Steve knew that tone, the carefully concealed hurt behind the levity.

He laughed, awkwardly glancing Nat’s way and begging for silence.

“Would you believe they had me working over Strange to see if he had any answers for how to fix your flu?” He rubbed at the back of his head, knowing that under the teasing, Bucky was right to be hurt. Steve’d had so many close calls, and Buck had never once left his side.

Then again, Steve had never had someone like Nat to keep an eye on him instead.  


“Man, you guys were really desperate, huh? I honestly don’t remember much of it, which… I’m not real excited about losing more time, but at least I have a good excuse. Must’ve been bad, from the way everyone’s acting. And if they sent you out to pester the magic man. Thanks, though. For trying everything. You’re a good pal, Steve.” Bucky reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, and Steve reeled.

This was harder than he would ever have guessed it would be.

And he thought Nat must be able to tell. He’d never been good at hiding it.

“Steve, you look dead on your feet. Get some food, grab a shower, and get some sleep. In that order. I’m sure James isn’t even supposed to be out of observation yet.”

She lifted an eyebrow and stared Bucky down, til he huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Yes mother.” He said, Russian accent thick and mocking. He gave Steve a little wave.

“If I’m not back in my apartment by the time you wake up, plan a jailbreak!” he stage whispered, heading back the way he’d come, and though he was obviously playing it for laughs, Steve had no doubt he was serious.

Nat gave him one last pat on the arm and a sympathetic look, before turning to follow Bucky.

 

And then Steve was left alone.

 

Bucky was whole, and healthy, and _happy._

That was all Steve had wanted.

He just didn’t know why he felt so crummy.

Guilt, he figured. For how he’d treated Loki. He’d realized, with all of Nat’s thank yous, that he’d never once thanked Loki.

And jealousy-- no matter how kind Nat was, he couldn’t help but-- and he hated himself for that. And… she was right. He hadn’t eaten or slept in way too long. He had a feeling that was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but he was sure Bucky would turn around and mother her right back before too much longer. That was why they worked-- they took care of one another.

So Steve went back to his apartment, and set about taking care of himself. No one else was going to, if he didn’t.

It had been early still, only dinner time in this timezone when Steve had gone to bed, which would have been no problem except that his body was made to be as efficient as possible, running on as little as he could.

So five hours later, he was up, but the tower was quiet.

Mostly.

He’d only been awake for maybe twenty minutes when he heard a timid knock on his door.

He opened it, surprised to see Wanda, and she carried with her two mugs of… knowing her, hot cocoa, though he couldn’t actually see the contents through the glowing lids she’d made out of her powers.

At least she knew she wouldn’t spill.

“Welcome back,” She said, her words warm, though she looked concerned. “How are you?”

And Steve realized no matter what he said, she was going to try and take responsibility for it. She was the one who had found the spell. And unlike Natasha-- _thank god_ , unlike Natasha-- she didn’t have anything to compare his experiences to.

“I’m good. Adjusting to the time difference, but… You want to come in?” He didn’t offer to answer her questions, but he had a feeling he was going to.

She smiled, complete with dimples, and any anxiety he had about this just doubled.

He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea about… the whole thing. But of course she’d be curious. She’d said she was a virgin, too, and she had lost her family before they could have this kind of talk. Which left him here.  


“I made apple cider.” She said, offering him one of the mugs as she entered.

He accepted it, closing the door behind him and following her in her beeline for his couch.

Once they’d both settled, the magic barriers came off the mugs with a graceful twist of her hand, and steam that had been held in began billowing out.

Which just meant that it was definitely still too hot for Steve to drink it and delay her expression-- she was so clearly bursting with curiosity, but trying not to be rude.

He took a deep breath.

“Alright, what do you want to know about?” he asked, his tone light and teasing, but even so she looked panicked, and he realized he’d said the wrong thing.

“I just… I came to check on you. Natasha was worried, and… I know that Stange said no, but you must have found someone else, because--” She tilted her head downwards and blushed.

“I swear, I did not come to bother you for information about other magic users. I was… I worried for you. Since…  since you hadn’t before.”

She spoke delicately around _what_ he hadn’t, but he still felt himself trying to tense up.

“Loki’s alive.” He said quietly. “I went to him.”

He didn’t meet her eyes, figuring he owed her the truth, and this might be the only way to keep her from putting energy and spellwork into trying to find some other magic user out there who probably didn’t exist.

“Oh!” she said, clearly surprised, and then, a moment later, she set her cup down, her concern clearly growing. “He didn’t-- did he hurt you?”

Steve felt another pang of guilt, another flush of shame.

“No, he… he was really good about-- he explained what he was doing to me, and went slow. He was careful, and gentle, and he kept his promises. Bucky’s better now.” And it was all true, but the words tasted bitter in Steve’s mouth.

Wanda was watching him, wide eyed, her eyes darting around his face and clearly looking for any sign he was lying, or hiding something.

He smiled for her.

“I promise, I’m okay.”

He almost added that if anyone was worse for the wear, it was Loki, but the only way he could imagine those who knew thinking even less of him is if they ever found out just how bad he’d been in bed; how he’d lost control and hurt him.

He licked his lips and fished around for something he could distract her with.

“He made me spit in a bowl full of liquid moonlight.”

She blinked, and it startled a laugh out of her.

“It did say in the spell, but… that was one of the things I didn’t know how to do. Or how to get it.” She confided.

“Loki said he got his from some elves.” Steve said with a shrug.

“Wow.” Wanda returned. She seemed to be building up her courage, and then she asked the question he was maybe dreading the most.

“So… what was it like?”

He’d thought, in waiting to be fully grown before losing his virginity, that he would miss out on this kind of discussion, but… apparently not. It didn’t feel like a bunch of kids gossiping, though. More like a younger sister asking. He just wished he knew someone better to point her towards, but all of the Avengers had their own sorts of hangups about sex.

“It was…” He thought about it, thought about the anxiety he’d felt and the fear, and the discomfort and the vulnerability… and then he thought of Loki’s hand on him. And the noises he made with Steve’s fingers in him, and…

He cleared his throat.

“It… felt good. I understand why people like it, but. I don’t know, it wasn’t world shattering. Maybe if it was someone I loved…” He trailed off, watching her face, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way. Instead, she nodded earnestly.

“I’m sure it’ll be better when you find.. Um. I heard, before, you said it was always going to be Bucky’s. Do you… love him?”

He froze, and in an act of desperation, tipped a gulp of the hot drink into his mouth, burning his entire mouth in the process.

He swallowed quickly, regretting the decision, because now he was in pain _and_ he had to answer Wanda.

He cleared his throat again.

“I uh- when we were younger, maybe. He loves Natasha now though, and… listen, Wanda, I need to ask you a favor, alright? Bucky doesn’t know what I did, or why. I need it to stay that way. I think… I think you, me, Nat and Loki are the only ones who do know. I just… can you keep this a secret from Bucky? And everyone else.” he hastened to add.

Wide eyed, she nodded solemnly.

“I won’t tell anyone. But, is it… is it because it was Loki?” She seemed confused.

“That,” Steve allowed, “and… I don’t want Bucky to feel like he has to treat me differently. Like he owes me something, or he should pity me, or…” Or however he might react to learning about Steve having slept with a man-- being attracted to men.

He could almost hear Loki’s voice in his head, the word ‘ _unmanned_ ’ practically haunting him.

“It’s just better if we all forget about it, okay?”

She nodded again, but she looked so sad.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

It was maybe the last thing that he wanted to hear, but he gave her another smile just the same.

“Don’t be. We saved him. Everything worked the way it was supposed to. And we couldn’t have figured it out without you-- you’re turning into a great asset to the team, and the more you study, the more powerful you’re gonna get. I’m sure of it.” He leaned forward and patted her knee a little awkwardly, the coffee table just slightly too wide for an easy reach.

“Now, tell me about what’s been happening around here while I was gone. I’m sure Tony managed to cause _at least_ three scandals in the three days since I left.”

She tried to stifle a laugh, and he grinned harder, grasping onto the subject with a desperation he wasn’t used to feeling. He usually didn’t avoid things like this.

“No? Four? _More_? Come on, Wanda, you have to catch me up.”

She settled in, trying to give him backstory for the first of Tony’s latest shenanigans, and as he listened he was able to relax. And even, eventually, sip his cider.

By the time the dregs at the bottom of the cup had gone cool, Wanda was taking her leave, and things felt almost normal.

He headed back to bed, grateful beyond words for her company.

Until his head hit the pillow, and sleep refused to come. And he was left to replay the conversation with Bucky and Nat, searching for any sign that Bucky might know, or have guessed. And once he’d finished worrying over every second of those few minutes, his mind flipped right back to Loki.

So it was no surprise when he did finally manage to sleep that he dreamed of him.

\---

  


Time passed, days, weeks, and Loki found himself unable to concentrate, unable to think of anything worth using the power that hummed through him for.

It grew cold, as the mild fall turned into a bitter winter, and the season change felt right, _fitting_ , somehow.

His days were the coldest, his nights sometimes better. Though that was only true of the nights when he stopped resisting the pull, gave in, and visited Rogers’ dreams.

He did his best to think of him in those terms-- Rogers, or the Captain, never Steve.

And he always woke feeling guilty, knowing that the man he was… _haunting_ , really, there was no other word for it, was at the very least in love with, if not _actively sleeping beside_ someone else. But then why did he feel such a pull? Was it Loki’s own fascination with the man echoing through the restless magic within him? Was Steve actively thinking of him, to cause the magic to pulse with the invitation that he worked so hard to fight?

Not knowing for certain plagued him like a fly around his head.

He didn’t think it had gone so poorly that Rogers would have been scared away from attempting to woo his Bucky, but he didn’t _know_. Had he worked up courage enough? Would he be afraid of Bucky as he’d feared Loki, or was it because it _was_ Loki that he’d been afraid? Would that pollute his interests?

If he had made his affections known, that was that; Loki could never hope to compete, and he couldn’t imagine a world in which someone like Rogers would be rejected.

That was that anyway, though. Nothing more was going to come of any of this. Still, he avoided the topic of Barnes, when they met in the Captain’s dreams. He didn’t want to listen to him singing his praises. It would be too painful.

He ventured out of his cave and down into the nearby towns, hoping to find a distraction, a cure, anything to pull his attentions away from where they inevitably wandered.

He considered that it might be the power, creating a tie between them.

So he searched for a suitable host for it, something that would be able to take this burden from him.

He found himself searching through stories, tales told through generations, in the hope that some artifact would come up.

Instead, he came across the tale of a Little Match Girl.

Freezing, she struck a match and felt, for just a moment, the warmth it promised. But then the moment was over, and the cold was all the worse for it, until she did it again. And again. Until she died.

It was what he’d been doing to himself with his visits to the Captain.

And he knew he couldn’t continue this way.

He needed to go to him, to find answers-- the fire may well consume him, they may meet as enemies, and Barnes might kill him for what he’d agreed to do, but… better than the slow freezing death he was on the road to, now.

And perhaps… maybe being near him would be enough. Rogers wouldn’t _want_ him, but if he committed himself to their service, they would have to accept, wouldn’t they? And then maybe these conversations, short and stolen though they were, could happen in person.

Where Loki would be able to smell, and feel the warmth rolling off of him, would be able to feel the vibrations that his voice stirred.

He wanted that-- anything that he could get-- and made up his mind.

The next time he bowed to the beckoning, he would go to Rogers.

The thought was both calming and nauseating, in turns.

He had no idea how long he would last until then.

\---

  


He’d made every effort to get things back to normal. He’d even overcompensated a bit, actually calling one of those numbers that Nat had put into his phone however long ago.

And Tanya was great, a nice enough lady, but… no matter how many romantic comedies and spaghetti dinners he took her to, there was never going to be any kind of chemistry.

Still, when he’d come home with a pink lipstick print on his cheek, Bucky had looked thrilled. And that had made it worth it, in a way, despite how it made his stomach twist.

He’d broken things off with her not long after that, and it gave him an excuse to lay low for a few days.

Since then, he’d managed to get back into his routine. Exercise and training, cooking, reading, drawing-- though the latter had taken a few dangerous turns of late, when he got caught up in his thoughts and just sort of let his hand do the sketching. But he got those pages safely destroyed before any harm could come of it.

And he decided to stick to landscapes for a bit. Just until he was sure that all of this had blown over.

Things were normal, except for when he had _those_ dreams.

At first he hadn’t been able to remember them, really. He’d just wake up knowing he felt… sad, and like he’d failed, somehow, like he was supposed to do or say something, and he hadn’t. And he knew Loki was involved.

He didn’t think they were sexual at all, which was almost a relief, really. Except the fact that he kept having them, even when he’d managed not to think about Loki at all for a little while, made him think he was carrying a lot more guilt than he’d thought.

Once, when he’d woken after and had caught himself actually rubbing his chest to try and get rid of the ache there, he’d been frustrated enough to think that he _hadn’t even hurt him that badly._

And then he instantly felt three times as bad, just for having the thought.

Bad or no, he shouldn’t have hurt him at all. Loki had been so careful not to hurt Steve, or even scare him, and Steve had…

He just thought of the bruises and the way Loki had waved him off, not even standing once he’d finished doing everything he needed to.

And Steve wondered if he’d hurt him more than he let on.

 _Inside_ , maybe--

And he hadn’t so much as _thanked him for Bucky’s life._

He should have stayed, should have made sure. Part of him wanted to go back, except that Loki probably wasn’t even there anymore. And even if he was, he probably wouldn’t want to talk to Steve. Honestly, in his place, Steve knew he wouldn’t want to talk to himself.

And he’d have to come up with an explanation for the folks here about why he even cared.

Though the other thing that bugged him was the magic he’d gotten out of it. Loki had been shining a little, even, there was so much, but he didn’t seem to have made a single move, there was no unaccounted for phenomena that any of Stark’s tech had picked up-- and Steve had asked.

Near as he could tell, Loki had just… crawled back into his hole, once Steve left. And sure, it wasn’t like he thought one quick round of sex was going to change his world or anything, but… at least he’d expected that Loki would be doing _something_.

And… for all the guilt, all the anxiety he felt in the aftermath of those dreams, he still… found himself sort of looking forward to having them.

Which just made him question himself further. But it was like having a loose tooth that he couldn’t stop poking at with his tongue.

And at least he was making sure to go to bed early and get enough sleep, because of it. Somehow, despite the emotional turmoil they left him in, they did manage to make him feel… strangely, a little less alone.

Which was no less selfish than the act that had put him in this position in the first place, so it was little wonder they kept happening.

\---

  


He went to him.

It was like a blink, with all that power spinning through him, and what used to take effort now seemed so simple.

Before, this kind of travel would have left him drained for the rest of the day, and that kind of distance could well have taken two or three jumps to achieve. Now, though, he felt as if he could make the hop twenty times, just for fun, and still have plenty of power left to him.

There was an easiness that came with that, an assurance and a confidence. It seemed like there was nothing he could not handle.

Except… except that all of the power in the world could not give him Rogers and his love, could not redirect it at Loki and have it be genuine and true.

But with all of the power he held, there had to be something Rogers and his Bucky wanted that Loki could use as leverage.

He just had to watch, and wait, and learn.

So he cloaked himself in invisibility and followed the Captain down a long hallway. He carried a bottle of wine, and Loki realized, when Barnes opened the door and pulled him into a hug, that it was likely some sort of romantic evening he was intruding on. And some part of him quailed at the prospect of watching Rogers making love to Barnes-- if he had something to compare he and the Captain’s time together against...

He might have turned away, gone off to snoop around, perhaps waited for the next day and a chance to observe Rogers alone, save that the Widow arrived before the door had even shut.

She hugged the Captain too, and pressed a small kiss to Barnes’ cheek.

Then the door shut in Loki’s face and his mind went blank with confusion and curiosity. What could the three of them be meeting about?

He doubted they were about to tear one another’s clothes off, at least, which meant he was missing out on an opportunity to spy, to observe. To listen in.

Plates were being dished as he walked through the door, and he stood back as they seated themselves around the table.

It was all small talk and pleasantries, but the frequency of the Widow’s worried glances between Rogers and Barnes, particularly when neither man was looking, created a knot in Loki’s stomach.

Something was amiss.

Was the relationship already rocky, so soon? Or… norns, was it possible it had not truly started yet?

He swallowed the hope that threatened to fill him; there was no hope in his position.

Even if… _even if_ Rogers truly had yet to make his move, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Or that he’d want Loki any more for it.

And it did irk him that the woman knew more than he did, even with his semi frequent visits to Rogers’ dreams. But then, he’d been so careful not to ask…

Loki was wringing his hands all through the meal.

They spoke of nothing important-- plans they had, movies to watch after dinner. Trading jibes and insults-- it was all so comfortable. When it was over, when they’d finished eating, Barnes stood to collect the plates and carry them into the kitchen, and Romanov followed, rinsing their wine glasses.

Then Barnes turned around, wrapped his arms around Romanov’s waist, and leaned in to nuzzle at her neck.

Loki was positioned in such a way that he could both stare in shock at the sight and turn to take in the expression on Rogers’ face as he looked on.

He looked.. hungry, guilty, jealous-- _hurt._ And worse, resigned.

And in that moment Loki understood what had happened, why he was here--

Barnes and Romanov, likely mainly the latter, had _used_ Steve. He had been willing, of course, but was this the reward for his sacrifice? To be kept close and forced to watch as they flaunted what he wanted but couldn’t have, mere feet from him?

Loki saw red and dropped his illusion, stepping forward to grab Rogers out of his chair.

The Captain let out an aborted shout, and Barnes and Romanov charged for them, brandishing a gun and a carving knife, respectively. But Loki was already pulling them away from there, one last glare at Romanov that no doubt communicated as much as any shouted accusation could.

He hadn’t planned on this when he’d left, hadn’t planned to ever return to this place, and yet here they were, he and Rogers, back in the cave where this whole mess had started.

And the Captain was  _livid_.

\---

 

“JARVIS, cancel that.”

“Natasha. What the _actual_ Fuck?”

She sighed.

“Cancel that order, JARVIS. Override code _Tsarina_.”

“ _Acknowledged_.”

James was staring at her like she’d betrayed him, and she swallowed, hating that expression on his face. But he needed to understand...

“Yasha… before we talk to the rest of the team, there are a few things you need to know. The first is, when you were sick… it wasn’t a flu. It was… they think it was your serum breaking down. It was eating you alive, and we had no way of fixing it.”

He sat down hard and she followed, reaching for his hands.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? And… what’s that got to do with--” he jerked his hand at the empty space where Steve had been sitting, just a few minutes prior.

“It has everything to do with that. We didn’t tell you because Steve asked us not to. He didn’t want you to know what he’d had to do to save you. The deal he made.”

She could see the way James’s mouth was tightening into a thin line, and she knew he was already thinking the worst.

She waited for him to say something.

“He wasn’t with Strange.” James said finally, words dull.

“No. He tried Strange first but… the spell we needed…  Strange wouldn’t do it. So he found Loki.”

She was watching James’s face, wondering if Steve had been right. James had never said anything, never given her the impression that he was anything less than accepting of anyone no matter their orientation, but…

“What was the deal, Tasha?” He asked, his voice small sounding and scared. “Is Loki gonna kill him?”

“No! No, or at least… that was never part of it. The deal was-- the spell that saved you, it needed a virgin. To lose their virginity to a-- sorcerer, or whatever Loki is. And Steve, well. He’d do anything to keep you safe.”

“Oh no.” James whispered, and his hand tightened on hers. “He...Nat, we need to find him.”

“We will.” She promised. “Stark’s machines should be able to help. But… Loki’s part of the deal was that he got to keep the excess energy and Steve owed him a favor on top of that. Every bit of magic that came from it that didn’t go towards healing you... he’s much stronger than we’re used to, and… it may be that he’s come to cash in that IOU. I don’t know what us interfering will do-- it might undo whatever he did to heal you. And, even if it doesn’t, you have to understand: Steve was so afraid that telling you would mean that your friendship would be over, that you’d hate him, or look at him differently… If Loki hadn’t shown up, you’d never know. Keep that in mind, when we do find him, okay? I promised him whatever privacy he wants in this. We owe him so much.”

James clenched his jaw and stood.

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked her, words sharp. “JARVIS, you can assemble the Avengers now.” He said. He shot her a glance and left, and she waited to give him space before following.

She just hoped she hadn’t miscalculated, and that both James and Steve would forgive her, eventually.

\---

  


“Bad enough that your friends betrayed you, but to _use_ you like that, and then to-- to rub your nose in it--!”

Loki hadn’t stopped pacing and ranting since they’d arrived back in the cave, and part of Steve wanted to shout at him, wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but he was distracted.

Between the state of the place and the state of Loki himself-- it looked like is home hadn’t been so much lived in as it appeared to have hosted several wild animals, and the bed they’d used on Steve’s last visit was gone, replaced by a small cot that made the ones he’d slept on in the army look like high priced hotel beds.

As for Loki, he looked… ragged. It looked like he hadn’t slept since the last time he’d seen him, like he hadn’t been eating-- like he’d forgotten how to take care of himself. Like something was eating him from the inside out. Steve just hoped it wasn’t the magic he’d given him.

“Loki.” Steve said calmly, and Loki stopped, obviously surprised at his tone.

“I knew about them-- they were together when Bucky first got sick, and even before that. I came here knowing they were together. And they’re not rubbing my nose in anything; they’re my friends. I’m happy for them.”

He tried to keep the words gentle, but firm, feeling mostly bemused by this whole thing.

Loki had just shown up and kidnapped him out of indignation over how his friends were treating him. It was so ridiculous, he almost couldn’t believe it was happening.

“Did the widow ask you to come to me?” Loki asked, and his voice seemed unusually high. But at least he’d stopped pacing, though Steve wasn’t sure that having him focus on him this way was any more comfortable for him.

Steve shook his head.

“No, I volunteered. She actually tried to tell me I didn’t need to, but… it’s Bucky. I wasn’t gonna risk it.”

Loki narrowed his eyes.

“Did you lie to me then? About your motives?”

“What?” Steve asked, suddenly less sure of his footing, especially with as half-wild as Loki looked. “No! I-- look, I told you I came to save him, and I did. We did. I told you I love him. I do. He doesn’t know it, or, he doesn’t know that I love him like-- but it wouldn’t matter, anyway. He loves Natasha and she loves him, and he doesn’t love men that way. So-- no, I didn’t lie. And them being together doesn’t change anything. I promise-- I still owe you that favor, and I still plan to pay up when you ask me to. And you still healed him and kept the excess energy, right? So everything’s still the way it should be.”

Loki was staring, face a little slack, and he sat on the cot, shaking his head.

“I never can wrap my head around just how _good_ you are. But that doesn’t mean that they haven’t used you, taken advantage of your goodness. The widow, no doubt she knows how you feel?”

Steve sat too, in the same chair he’d taken last time, when Loki had served them both tea.

“She knows, and I think she feels like she took something from me, but it would never have-- if not for her, it would be someone else. And not me. They deserve one another, like I said-- I’m happy for them.”

“I think perhaps they do not deserve you.” Loki said, with a viciousness that startled Steve.

“That’s not your call to make.” He returned, trying to keep some semblance of control. “Honestly, Loki, what is this about? You look like you’ve been beating yourself up, you turn up out of the blue to steal me away from my home, and then you just rant about how bad my friends are. What’s going on here?”

Loki made a small choking sound, before he managed to find his words again.

“I came to see-- to make sure that your first time hadn’t been terrible enough as to turn you away from the potential of a life with your _love_ , your Bucky, only to find--” He broke off and gestured at the cave wall, and Steve didn’t even know if it was in the right direction for home, but he could only shake his head.

“My first time was fine-- I mean, yeah, the circumstances weren’t ideal, but you went out of your way to be sure I enjoyed it. The only bad part was uh, me. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry I didn’t stick around after to-- to check on you and make sure everything was okay. I didn’t… cause too much damage, I hope?” He could feel his face heating up and the guilty knot that sometimes formed in his chest when he thought about Loki surfaced again.

Loki stared at him, then heaved a fairly inelegant snort.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Rogers. The bruising faded within the hour. If anything, I would say you were too controlled, too afraid to hurt me. But that’s what practice is for, isn’t it?”

The words came out nearly snide, and Steve blinked.  


“You’re stronger than most people, though. If it bruised you, imagine what that would do to a normal person-- I could… could break something or--” Steve swallowed, feeling faintly nauseous. “If that’s what you wanted to bring me here for, I can promise I haven’t improved any. I haven’t uh. Practiced. It probably wouldn’t be safe for most folks, and… I don’t exactly have anyone I’m interested in that way.”

“What a shame, but understandable if that’s your concern. That’s why you should only sleep with those equal or better than you, or those you don’t care about.” Loki said, waving his hand.

That only made it worse, and Steve couldn’t help himself.

“And which of those categories do I fall in for you, huh?”

Loki paused, staring hard at him.

“Well,” he said finally, “One doesn’t travel halfway across the realm to check up on someone you don’t care about.”

It had the air of an admission, and it was the opposite of what Steve had expected. He’d figured Loki would be flippant and dismissive-- of _course_ he didn’t care about Steve-- but apparently that wasn’t quite true.

“Is that why you’re mad at Bucky and Nat? Because you care about me?”

He couldn’t help but sound skeptical; it wasn’t like they’d spoken much, beyond having sex. And the sex-- Loki’s critique made it sound like Steve hadn’t even been much good-- not that he’d expected he would be, but hearing it confirmed… it stung all the same.

“Is that so hard to believe of me?” Loki asked, and though he snapped the words, he mostly sounded sad, Steve thought.

“It’s not because it’s you,” he hastened to explain, aware that he’d hurt Loki’s feelings. “It’s just… why would you care about me? We had sex and it was… it was a transaction. You don’t know me.”

“I was responsible for your first time.That can be important-- should be important.”

He spoke stiffly, and Steve found his eyes narrowing.

“I feel like it was more important for you than it was for me. Do you feel like you failed me, somehow? Because, honestly-- I thought it went fine. We accomplished everything we needed to and it-- it felt good.” He stumbled, not really comfortable with talking about it-- it felt too much like saying ‘you felt good’. It seemed… almost insulting, somehow.

“If it wasn’t important to you, the spell wouldn’t have worked. My first time--” Loki began, but he bit it off and looked down. He cleared his throat, seemingly unable to find words, and Steve felt his eyes widening.

“Was yours-- did something go wrong? Your first time.” If that was the case, it might explain Loki’s worries. As it was, he seemed a lot more hung up on this than made sense.

“No. My first time was-- it was perfect. I could not have asked for better teachers, better partners. I left that relationship knowing… so much. They gave me every tool I could ever need. But you left not even knowing how to prepare yourself, or someone else, let alone… You left here not even knowing how to enjoy sex. And so yes. I failed you.” He spread his hands- an apology without saying it.

Steve felt his brows rising.

“One, I didn’t actually expect you to teach me anything. Remember that I showed up expecting that my role would be to lay there while you had sex with me, and then I’d leave. Two, did you say partners, as in, plural?” He couldn’t imagine sleeping with more than one person at a time, let alone for your first time. It just seemed like too many moving pieces.

“You expected little because you didn’t know to expect more. And yes-- unlike you, I lost my virginity to two people I… cared greatly for. Loved.”

Steve wasn’t sure why Loki sounded quite so torn up about that-- surely it couldn’t be just for Steve’s sake, and this seemed like a good way to burn some time, let his friends come find him, and keep from arguing with Loki. He spoke in the past tense, though, and Steve had a feeling that getting to the root of this would help him know what he was dealing with-- give him better ground to stand on in talking Loki down.

“Tell me about them?” He suggested. Loki gave him a sideways glance, but nodded, almost as if to himself.

“They were-- we met in my father’s court. They were beautiful, ambitious and clever and so smooth, so effective, each capable of dancing through a crowd or a conversation on their own, but together… they made a beautiful couple. They were married, and I… I suppose I loved them for months, hating myself for it, and hating more that I couldn’t tell who I was more envious of-- her or him.” Loki grimaced and glanced up, but Steve nodded.

“I used to feel that way about the girls Buck dated, back before I realized… and then I loved Peggy. She was-- well, she was a hell of a woman. So I understand wanting both.”

Loki nodded, his expression thoughtful.

“So they noticed you?” Steve prompted, hoping there would be something here that he could work with.

Loki chuckled, and it sounded a bit bitter.

“I suppose I was obvious, in those days. Maybe I still am-- either way. Oh yes, they noticed me. And they took me in. Brought me to bed, taught me how to use my hands, my tongue, how to walked and what words to use, what promises to make… really, I have them to thank for my ability to survive at court at all. They taught me to lie.”

The bitter note remained, and Steve found himself frowning.

“Did they lie to you?” He asked softly.

“Not in as many words. I had admired their ambitions, I was just too naive, too swept up in my first taste of lust and love and obsession… I didn’t realize I was part of that ambition. And they were effective; their combined focus was enough to utterly destroy you. It destroyed me. I had allowed him to unman me, and my father could not risk that getting out.” He lifted his shoulders and let them drop, though his hands remained balled together in his lap.

“What happened to them?” Steve asked, afraid the answer would be jailing or execution, though maybe some part of him felt like they deserved it. Loki hadn’t known any better, and preying on him like that…

“Last I heard,  he is one of Odin’s most trusted advisors, and she is a valued ambassador. They were only using me to gain my father’s attention, and as a bargaining chip, you see. And when they had their positions elevated, they no longer had time for me, wanted nothing to do with me, beyond passing cordiality, or if the whim struck them. I slept with them a few more times, before I truly understood, and it took an intervention from the Alfather himself-- he had to spell it out to me. Any time they needed a favor from the court, there would be the renewed scandal of my leanings to hang over Odin’s head. And finally he forbade me from seeing them; sent me away, so that I would have time to patch the void in my heart without them slipping back inside. I was stupid, and weak, and I loved too easily. But I learned.”

He lifted his head, almost defiant, and stared Steve down.

“I would not teach you the way they taught me, and I will never pretend at care I do not feel. But I _would_ show you how it can be, how it should be, if you will give me the opportunity. If… that is, if you wanted… me.” His defiance bled out and Loki suddenly seemed small, and everything clicked.

No wonder Loki was so furious, so defensive, at the thought of Natasha and Bucky using Steve. But he was barking up the wrong tree; it was Steve who’d used Loki, and he felt panic at that-- at the thought that he’d reopened a wound without knowing it, one that had nothing to do with him being too strong or moving wrong. And… for all he wanted to comfort Loki, what he was asking for…

“Loki, I… barely know you. And what I do know of you, you have to admit, save the last time we were together-- they’re not exactly positive memories. And I appreciate your intentions, but I just don’t… I don’t _want_ to have sex just to do it, just to get better at it. I want to love the person I’m with.”

“And you do not think you could love me.” Loki said, accepting, resigned; confirming something he already knew. Steve just didn’t understand where this was coming from; everything about this felt out of left field and seemed absurd.

“I don’t actually know you, and what I do know-- Look, I’m grateful for what you did, but before that, I also know how many people you killed when you invaded, and how many people you saved when you helped fight off Thaons. I know the things you’ve done, but not who you are. And I really don’t know why you would even _want_ me to love you. We had sex once, and you said it wasn’t even good, so why would you want me--want _this_?” he gestured between the two of them, feeling a little panicked and not altogether sure why.

Loki looked vaguely sick, which, Steve thought, made two of them. But Loki got his face under control quickly.

“Of course. I suppose I have you at a bit of a disadvantage, there.” He put on a bland expression, and Steve tensed, sensing that he was being baited, but he bit just the same.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demanded.

“Do you think of me often, Captain? Do you dream of me?”

Steve felt himself blushing.

“I-- like I said, I feel guilty about hurting you, and, I don’t, I can’t control my dreams.”

“Mm.” Loki hummed. “No, you can’t can you? If nothing else, let me teach you to do that, or fashion for you some sort of barrier to wear when you sleep. Because as it is… when you dream of me, it’s like a pull. As long as your magic is inside of me, the only way for me to keep myself out of your mind when that happens is to wake myself up.”

Steve found himself looking at the cot. It looked uncomfortable-- and maybe this was why Loki looked like such a wreck; if he had to give up sleep every time Steve dreamed of him… But he didn’t say he’d done that. And there were all those Loki dreams he’d had that he didn’t remember. Which left an altogether unappealing second option.

“So you’ve… been in my head.” He said flatly. Loki’s eyes widened.

“No! No, only the once, when I had to be sure you had a focus on Barnes for me to heal him. Since then I’ve been pulled into your dreams-- not by my own choice, mind you-- which is a wholly different thing. I realize you’ve no reason to believe me, but… it is less of a violation. I… don’t suppose you remember any of our discussions, do you?”

He looked so hopeful that Steve felt something in his chest squeeze.

“I don’t. I’m sorry.” Loki was right, he had no reason to believe him, but he found himself wanting to, just based on Loki’s reactions to everything.

Loki sagged, his shoulders sinking, and he nodded.

“I should not have hoped for any different.” He exhaled heavily, not a sigh, but like he was gathering himself. “I apologize.” He said, finally. “It seems I am entirely in the wrong, here; I had thought…” He pursed his lips and his face pinched and Steve realized that he was watching Loki trying not to cry.

“Is there some way I could remember?” Steve found himself asking, almost before the thought was fully formed.

Loki looked up sharply, and he looked so wary, so suspicious, that Steve blinked, surprised by it.

“Not without my being _in your head_ , as you so elegantly put it.” He set his jaw and stood, turning his back to him.

“Loki--” Steve began, but he’d obviously upset him again, and this time he didn’t fully understand how.

“Don’t. Just-- stay out of the way. I’m going to make you a charm to keep your dreams to yourself, and then I’m sure we’ll both be able to rest easier.

“Loki, I want to be able to take responsibility for whatever I said or did in my dreams, or explain myself, if I need to. I want to know-- if you had time to come to care about me enough to be _that_ angry when you saw what was going on, then who knows what I had time to feel.” Or say. Which of his friends he might have unwittingly betrayed, thinking his dreams were just for him.

Loki sighed without looking at him, but Steve could see his shoulders slump.

“But you _don’t_. Even without knowing why, you would have feelings, if they were there. They aren’t, and it is my fault for confusing your dreams with my own. Let me do this, and take you back, and so long as you wear this charm, we will count ourselves even, and you won’t hear from me again.”

“And if I want to know? It’s not fair, that you get to walk into my dreams and remember everything, and I don’t get any memories, other than that they happened. You talked before about violations-- this feels like the first legitimate claim of being violated that I could make.”

And even that felt like he was pushing it, since Loki was clearly suffering from his involvement in Steve’s dreams, but…

Apparently he’d been right in thinking it would be a sore point for Loki, because he did finally turn to look at Steve, and the expression on his face was--

Steve didn’t know that he had a word for it. He looked torn, and like he was in pain.

“Rogers, _please._ You will hate me for agreeing to go into your head to fish your memories out, but you will hold it against me if I don’t-- what about that seems _fair_?”

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Clearly you don’t know me as well as you think, if you really believe I’d hold it against you if you do something I ask you to. Whether I like it or not. Look, you dragged me here, you claim to care about me, to want to do right by me. Don’t you think you owe me this?”

He felt bad, putting it this way, felt like a bully, but he knew from experience that leaving with things the way they were-- well, that was what had led them both to this in the first place, wasn’t it?

Loki still looked conflicted, but he averted his eyes and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll-- one moment.”

He turned and transformed the cot back into the bed they’d used before, gesturing at it.

“Dreams aren’t linear, and you’re going to be getting a lot of them hurled at your consciousness in rapid succession. It’ll be safer for you to lay down and close your eyes.”

Steve couldn’t help but remember how vulnerable he’d felt the last time he’d lay down on this bed. This was better, though-- despite it being his mind, he knew now that guilt was as effective against Loki as it was against him. Which meant that he could at least trust that Loki would do the right thing-- wouldn’t lie to him, or create false memories. Not when he’d been so wounded by the people who had been part of his first time.

Steve stretched out and took a deep breath, watching as Loki pulled a chair closer and sat down on it beside the bed. He met Steve’s eye and swallowed.

“Alright. I-- I’m sorry. I need you to relax, and then… we’ll walk into your dreams.” He sounded so regretful, and Steve couldn’t really fathom why. But

He closed his eyes, managing not to flinch as Loki laid his surprisingly cool palm on Steve’s forehead.

He willed himself to relax, evening out his breathing, and only barely registered the words when Loki murmured,

“We’ll start with the first time. The night after you first came to me.”

Steve saw, behind his eyes, a white light. He blinked, trying to get used to it, and saw himself in the room he’d rented at the inn.

Loki stood at the end of his bed, frowning as he looked down at him.

By his side-- the him that was watching, not the him that was asleep, a second Loki stood, their shoulders almost touching.

“What is this?” Steve asked, confused.

“The night you first came to me, when you returned to town, I sent my mind to follow you. I heard your call and watched you in the tub, and then when you slept, I entered your dreams for the first time.” This Loki was cringing, waiting to be told off, but the Loki from the dream was reaching out, gently pulling dream Steve’s hand away from between his legs. He hadn’t even realized that his dream self had been masturbating, but he supposed it made sense; he’d gone to bed trying to imagine what having sex with Loki would be like. Trying to be certain he’d even be able to respond, all things considered.

He flushed now, though, as he watched dream-Loki walk around and take a seat next to dream-Steve’s legs.

“ _Captain_.” Dream-Loki called, rousing Dream-Steve.

“What?” Steve whispered, confused at the idea of waking up in a dream.

“Dreams have many layers.” Loki explained. “Rather than chasing you deeper, I called you back to the shallowest one- the layer closest to sleep. Not particularly restful, but less invasive. A safer place to speak with you, without seeing things you wouldn’t want me to. And I-- didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Hence why I stopped you from--” Loki made a gesture towards his own groin, and Steve’s blush intensified. He turned to look back at their doubles.

In front of him, his dream self sat up, regarding Loki without any of the suspicion he would have in real life.

“ _That time already, huh?”_  Dream-Steve asked, and Dream-Loki just shook his head.

“ _Not at all. I only wanted to ask you some questions, if that’s alright. Things to help me to prepare our spell. To help Bucky.”_

Steve turned to the Loki who was with him, and raised an eyebrow.

“I lied.” Loki said evenly. “I was asking to find out your true intentions. To be certain you weren’t lying to me. It seemed too unlikely-- and your confessions too good to be true. Captain America, handing me his weakness on a plate, and his body besides. I was paranoid and suspicious, and so I followed up.”

In the dream, Loki was asking him some of the same questions he’d asked before.

And Steve gave the same answers.

“ _You love Bucky?”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _And he is dying, though you don’t know of what. And you would do anything to stop it.”_

“ _I would.”_

“ _Including having sex with me.”_

“ _It’s not the worst thing I would do.”_

“ _And what is?”_ Dream-Loki asked suddenly, and not-dram-Steve squirmed.

“ _I’d die for him.”_ His dream self answered, without hesitation. “ _Kill for him. Anything. There’s… there isn’t much I wouldn’t do.”_

“ _And who is he to deserve such loyalty?”_ Loki asked, and there was no disguising the bitterness in his voice. Dream Steve didn’t seem to notice it, though.

“ _He’s… just Bucky. That’s all he needs to be.”_

Dream-Loki looked down at Steve with something that looked like disgust, tinged with pity.

“ _And so you would give me what should always have been his.”_ Dream _-_ Loki said, no longer asking. He huffed out a sigh and waved his hand, and Dream-Steve fell back asleep. Or… deeper into sleep, as the case may be.

And Dream-Loki disappeared.

Steve turned towards Loki, feeling at least a little… violated was too strong a word, but it felt like he’d caught Loki watching him bathe.

Which, he had actually admitted to doing that, too.

Still, his main emotion was confusion.

“The next time was the next night. After you returned home, and saw that Bucky was safe. You dreamed of me, then, and I hadn’t realized yet what sort of bond existed. I--” Loki cleared his throat. “I apologize. There are misunderstandings, here.”

Steve could only imagine-- and then he didn’t have to, anymore.

The dream that rose was one where Steve and Bucky were talking, casually leaning against a wall. Standing close together. And then between one word and the next, it wasn’t Bucky any longer, but Loki, and Dream-Steve didn’t seem to notice the change had happened. Not right away, at least.

In the dream, Steve reached out and brushed Loki’s hair away from his eyes.

Dream-Loki jerked, startled, but it didn’t phase Dream-Steve in the least.

“That was me entering the dream,” Loki told him, and Steve nodded, eyes fixed on the two of them.

It was weird, seeing them together. He could make out the gentle, goofy smile on his own face, and the way Loki’s eyes were looking Steve over, clearly searching for some clue as to what was happening. He relaxed a bit, though, apparently having come to some sort of justification.

“I thought this was my dream.” Loki whispered, sounding utterly ashamed, and Steve would have asked why, save that Dream-Loki had leaned in and captured Dream-Steve’s mouth, kissing him. Steve felt his own mouth go dry as Dream-Steve responded, leaning into it, and just as he might have objected, his dream self opened his eyes and pulled away.

“ _You tricked me!”_ He said, and Dream-Loki took a step backward, raising his arm, his smug expression crumpling into one of revulsion.

“ _I thought you’d come back for more.”_ Dream-Loki hastened to explain. Dream-Steve shook his head and advanced on him.

“ _I thought you were Bucky. Haven’t you taken enough from me?”_ He sounded so hurt, so sad, even to his own ears, that Steve found himself reaching for Loki’s hand.

“I don’t feel like that when I’m awake. I’m sorry this dream turned into a nightmare for you.” He said, confident now that their dream selves couldn’t hear him and not feeling the need to whisper.

Loki turned to look at him sadly, squeezed his hand once, then pulled his away.

“People have no reason to lie when they’re dreaming.” He said, voice probably not as flat as he would have wanted it to be.

In the dream, Loki was backing away.

“ _I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”_ he stopped suddenly, brow creasing. “ _Where are we?”_

Only as Dream-Loki looked around did the world seem to populate itself.

Dream-Steve looked around too, though he looked exasperated.

“ _By the docks. This was me and Buck’s secret place when we were kids. We’d hide here to get time to ourselves, away from his sisters. I guess you think this should be yours too?”_ Dream-Steve demanded.

Dream-Loki cocked his head.

“ _But I have never been here.”_ He said slowly. “ _So how can I be dreaming it?”_

Dream-Steve stopped short.

“ _Why would you be dreaming me yelling at you?”_ He asked, sounding utterly calm.

Dream-Loki blinked out suddenly, and Dream-Steve shook his head and started doing something else, before fading out slowly.

“I woke up.” Loki explained. “And I think… I think we both realized, in our subconsciouses, that something wasn’t right.”

“Your first thought, when you thought you were dreaming about me, was to kiss me?” Steve asked, and Loki looked uncomfortable.

“Realize that, to me…the dream started with you looking at me as if you were in love. We’d just had sex hours prior. It seemed… normal, I suppose, to have that sort of-- I didn’t know that your mind had put me in Barnes’ place. I didn’t… you hadn’t let me kiss you in person.” Loki bit his lip, and Steve blinked, smiling in spite of himself.

“I didn’t know that had bothered you.”

Loki cleared his throat and looked away.

“It wasn’t about me.” He said, as if that explained anything, and Steve felt that cold guilty feeling that he woke with, sometimes, after these dreams.

He guessed he was about to find out why.

“Loki, that isn’t-- I _never_ \--”

But the next dream was already forming.

Dream-Steve was drawing, in this one. The world around them was obviously his room at the tower. There were no obvious markers to say how much time had passed. Over his own shoulder, Steve could see he was drawing Loki. It wasn’t explicit, thank god, but he looked calm, peaceful. In a way Steve had only seen him once-- after the sex, after the spell. The drawing even showed that faint glow that Steve had seen around him before.  And… Dream-Steve was shading in the bruises that real life Steve had left. He felt his stomach churning.

Loki drifted closer to look at the page, but he turned back to Steve.

“What is it you’re working on? What do you see?”

“Can’t you see?” He asked, and Loki shook his head.

“To me, it’s… shifting and vague, impossible to pin down the shapes. Can you make it out?”

“I-- it’s you. And the injuries I left you with.”

Loki snorted.

Steve shook his head.

“I’m serious. I really felt-- feel-- bad about it.”

“Oh, I realize. It’s a recurring theme, you’ll find.” He said, words sardonic as they came. “But look, here I am.”

Steve looked back, and so he was; Dream-Loki had slid into view and was looking around, more cautious this time.

“ _Captain? Do you know me?”_

Dream-Steve looked up and beamed at Dream-Loki, then turned the page around for him to see.

“ _Probably too well. I guess that’s what everyone else would think, if they knew. But no, I don’t know you much at all.”_

Dream-Loki rolled his eyes.

“ _Riddles don’t suit you, Captain. Do you know who I am?”_

Dream-Steve tilted his head, and looked from the page to where Dream-Loki stood.

“ _You’re Loki. But… why are you here?”_

“ _Why indeed.”_ Dream-Loki said, words ponderous as he looked around the room. “ _You’ve forgotten the doorknob.”_ He pointed out, and Dream-Steve turned to look, though it appeared just before he did.

Dream-Loki made a slight humming sound.

“ _So I suppose it’s my turn to ask you, Rogers-- why am I here?”_

That seemed to take Dream-Steve aback.

“ _Is it because I forgot to say thank you? For saving Bucky?”_

Dream-Loki laughed, his amusement at least real, even if none of the rest of this was.

“ _I wouldn’t be surprised.”_ He said. “ _Good night, Captain. Enjoy your sleep. Try not to think of me, tomorrow.”_

And he blinked out again.

“I’d thought that might be the end of it.” Loki said, his lips twisting.

“So you disappearing-- that’s you waking up?” Steve asked. Loki nodded. “And… did you go back to sleep, after?”

“Sometimes. Usually I waited until you woke, though. Or just… began my day early. Or late, as was sometimes the case. We were in different time zones, if you’ll recall. And I was not always asleep when you pulled me to you.”

Steve cringed.

“So what, you would just… be having breakfast and then pass out?” He’d been interfering in Loki’s life even more than he’d thought.

“Not exactly. If I was awake and engaged-- doing something, going somewhere, then my mind is strong enough not to succumb. I might not even have felt it. So not every dream about me _was_ me, if you understand. But… when I was meditating, or when my concentration was on something distant, or if I did sleep… my conscious barriers would be weakened, and… even then, sometimes I woke rather than go to you. Eventually I did figure out what was happening. Not yet, though-- at this point, I am still appearing each time you dreamed of me. I… was not particularly occupied, immediately after our spell.” He looked a little embarrassed at that, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder what that really meant.

“Well, sorry anyway. You should have come sooner-- told me to stop messing up your life.”

He’d thought it would help, showing some sympathy, but instead Loki looked, if anything, more embarrassed.

But the next dream was beginning, and Steve didn’t have a chance to explore that. He just mentally put a pin in it. He’d just have to remember to come back to it.

Dream-Steve was training, shirt off and sweat dripping down his chest- something he didn’t do in the real world. He had shirts specifically for this. But then again, if he were wearing one of them, he supposed he wouldn’t have been able to see the naked admiration on Dream-Loki’s face when he showed up, holding the other side of the punching bag.

Dream-Steve didn’t miss a punch.

“ _I adore how, even here, you cannot be gentle enough for the world around you.”_ Dream-Loki said, and Dream- Steve flinched and immediately dropped out of his stance.

“ _Are you alright?”_ Dream-Steve asked without any preamble. “ _I… I should have stayed. I’ve thought about going back but. I guess you probably would hide from me, huh?”_

Dream-Loki cocked his head.

“ _That depends, I suppose. On what you would want of me if you did.”_

“ _I just… want to know that you’re alright. That I didn’t…”_ Dream-Steve licked his lips, and Dream Loki’s eyes followed his tongue.

“ _I know I’m too strong. And I was trying to be gentle, to be careful but. If I hurt you, I should have stayed to take care of you. You’d already saved Bucky by then; you did that even if you were hurt. And I didn’t thank you, or make sure you were okay. I didn’t even…  you never finished your tea.”_

Dream-Steve sounded so remorseful, and Dream-Loki just laughed at him. Just like real Loki had. Although… maybe it made more sense, him laughing, if he had to hear all of this, over and over again.

“ _So wracked with guilt, the poor Captain. I don’t imagine you’ve let it stop you living your life, though, have you?”_

“ _If I did, everyone would be suspicious. I… I haven’t told them. And that’s part of why I haven’t come back, too. I’d have to figure out an explanation. Or a lie. I’m bad at those.”_

“ _And I am so good. Let’s see. You could claim you wanted to be alone for a bit, to think. Claim that you are taking some long overdue time off.”_

“ _Natasha would know something’s up.”_

“ _I thought you didn’t tell anyone?”_ Dream-Loki was goading him, now; Steve knew Loki knew better. He’d listened in on Steve’s call to Nat that first night.

“ _You and me and what we did, only Nat and Wanda know. But what I did to you…”_ Dream-Steve looked ill and upset. “ _I don’t know how I could face them if they knew. I should probably be on some kind of registry-- a list of people who hurt folks when they have sex with them. Something to let people know it isn’t safe._ ”

Dream-Loki laughed again.

“ _Perhaps if I had been someone else, you would have been more careful, hmm?”_

Dream-Steve was the one to disappear, this time, and Steve jerked his head to gape at Loki.

“I wasn’t-- it’s not like that. I didn’t hurt you on purpose, and I didn’t--”

“Oh, I know.” Loki assured him. “You have apologized for it so often, I can’t even begin to doubt your sincerity. But again, all of this is unnecessary. You didn’t do me even a quarter as much damage as I usually like to have done to me, during sex. You needn’t have worried.”

“I shouldn't have done you any damage at all.” Steve said, and he knew he sounded distressed, from the way Loki turned to look at him.

“Are you still worried about how much you would harm anyone less resilient than me?” Loki asked softly.

“No! I’m worried how-- you were so careful not to hurt me, and to warn me before you did anything. You didn’t want me to be hurt or scared, and I left you both. You had bruises, and you thought I or my friends or all of us might come after you, and that-- that’s not fair. It’s not right. Loki, I am so sorry.”

Loki huffed.

“I didn’t really think that. That was… it was a lie, an excuse. This… coming to you in dreams, I didn’t fight it, after a while. You were the only person I talked to, and… honestly, the next couple are more of the same, but...let’s move ahead, shall we?”

In some distant place, back in his body, he felt Loki’s hand stroking over his forehead. But the world here tilted in an odd way, and Steve knew he’d be stumbling if he was standing. It was like vertigo was colliding with his total lack of inertia, in this form. And he probably would have kept spinning forever, if a dream hadn’t formed, creating a floor that he suddenly found himself standing on. Or maybe it was Loki’s hand on his shoulder that steadied him. Either way, he was looking at himself again, just standing, looking out the window of his room.

Dream-Loki formed, laying on Steve’s bed. He was tossing something-- the shape seemed unclear or inconsistent, but also like it didn’t matter. He’d throw it up in the air and catch it, before doing it again. It didn’t hit the ceiling, didn’t seem like a game. More like an idle habit.

Dream-Steve didn’t even turn around.

“ _Something bothering you?”_ Dream-Loki asked.

“ _It’s Bucky. I hate keeping secrets from him. I mean. I guess I’ve kept this one from him for so long, but…”_

“ _You haven’t told him about me then? Good of you.”_ Dream-Loki’s voice was light, easy. Almost too casual.

“ _What would he think of me if he knew?”_

“ _Yes, yes, what you did to me, of course. I’m sure he’d forgive you. After all, what you did to me caused his life to be saved. You ought to tell him. But enough of this-- I don’t want to hear about Barnes. I don’t care for him. Tell me what you’ve been doing of late.”_

Dream-Steve looked at Loki-- really stared at him.

“ _Have you been eating?”_ He asked, and Steve realized with a jolt that he had a point. Dream-Loki looked thin-- too thin. He’d been distracted by what he’d been throwing, and he hadn’t really noticed-- or maybe, like the world around them, the hollows of Loki’s face only populated when Dream-Steve noticed it.

But Steve hadn’t dreamt Loki thinner, hadn’t wished him that way… had he?

“ _No.”_ Dream-Loki said simply. “ _I’ve no real need of it.”_

“ _Clearly you do. You look like you’re wasting away. Do you-- I offered you money. Why’d you turn it down, if you need it?”_

“ _I’ve no need of_ money _. I am perfectly capable of feeding myself. I simply haven’t.”_

“ _Why?”_ Dream-Steve looked more curious than disturbed, and Steve snuck a glance at Loki but he was looking studiously at the carpet, as if he was ignoring the scene.

“ _Why bother?”_ Dream-Loki asked, sounding bitter. “ _Food is fuel. I do nothing, day in and out.”_

“ _Yeah, but you need food even if all you’re doing is existing. People need food to live, to… you know. Be.”_

“ _I do nothing. I am nothing. So I eat nothing. Should that change, I’ll be certain to let you know. Thank you for the concern, though.”_ Dream-Loki’s sarcasm was cutting. Dream-Steve wasn’t turned away, though. He came closer instead.

“ _Why are you punishing yourself?”_ He asked. “ _What did you do that you feel like you should be treated like this?”_

Steve gaped. He didn’t think he would ever outright ask anything quite as blunt as that when he was awake.

Dream-Loki seemed equally taken aback.

“ _You know only the slightest fraction of what I’ve done, and isn’t that enough? And with_ what _I am, on top of it, I--  I don’t know why we are even discussing this._ ”

Dream-Loki got to his feet angrily, and then disappeared, and Dream-Steve looked, if anything, more concerned.

Steve, himself, turned to Loki, but he just waved his hand and started the next dream.

“You aren’t getting out of it that easy.” Steve told him. “Are you still not eating?”

“What you refused to understand in your sleep is that I suffer from an overabundance of energy at the moment. Not eating allows my body to siphon some of it off to survive-- a bit like slowly digesting to feel less over-full. But yes, after insistence on your part--  I eat more now.”

Which, Steve thought, wasn’t much of a consolation; anything was ‘more’ than nothing. It didn’t mean he was eating enough. And he couldn’t quite believe that magical energy worked that way, but he also didn’t know for sure it didn’t.

Either way, he’d missed the set up of this dream.

When his attention was pulled to their doubles, he swallowed any further argument he might have made.

Loki looked sick; there were dark circles under his eyes and he’d gone even more gaunt and pale.

“How long did you stay awake to avoid me, after that?” He murmured.

Loki just shook his head.

“As long as I could. Not long enough.”

“ _Loki, Loki here, let me help you.”_ Dream-Steve was crouching next to his own bed, and Loki’s lips were dry enough that they looked like they might crack if he moved them.

It didn’t stop him from sneering, though, or chuckling darkly.

“ _And what do you suppose you could do to help_ me _?”_ Dream-Loki asked, his voice just as rough as the rest of him.

“ _Whatever you’d let me do-- you look like you need to rest, and eat, and bathe, and--”_

Dream-Loki’s laugh broke through Dream-Steve’s rambling.

“ _And would you bathe me, Rogers?”_ He lifted a brow, even though that looked like about all he could lift, at the moment. Dream-Steve’s jaw jutted out.

“ _Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked.”_ He said frankly.

Dream-Loki snorted.  
“ _What would it matter? None of this is real. Not this world, or all the food you could force on me, nor your care. It’s all make believe, and when we wake, it will all disappear.”_

Dream-Steve frowned.

“ _Maybe. But maybe you just need to be reminded what it feels like, so you’ll do it yourself.”_

Dream-Loki scoffed again, but then Dream-Steve was picking him up, and, in the way of dreams, he turned away from the bed, it disappeared, and suddenly they were in a nicer bathroom than anything Steve had ever seen in real life.

And Dream-Loki was naked.

“You do not have to watch this, if you don’t want.” Loki interjected. “It is… self indulgent, on my part. I should not have used you so. And it is hardly worth your time.”

He raised his hand to move them on to the next one, but Steve reached out and lowered it for him.

“No, I want to see this.”

He couldn’t say why it felt important. Maybe it was self indulgent for him, now, watching himself taking care of Loki, even if it wasn’t real. But… he also knew part of it was wanting to see how Loki responded to being shown care.

Since Steve hadn’t done any of that, when they’d been together before. And since that seemed to be what he wanted from Steve when he was awake.

He wondered if he even _could_ live up to his dream self, when it came to that; it wasn’t like he had much experience.

Dream-Steve was lowering Dream-Loki into the water, and Loki, standing beside Steve, was shifting uncomfortably.

It only made Steve more sure that he’d chosen the right thing in staying.

“ _And now what?”_ Dream-Loki asked, goading Dream-Steve. “ _You’re trying to be kind, are you not? Perhaps the kindest thing would be for you to drown me now, while you have the chance.”_

“ _I thought this wasn’t real.”_ Dream-Steve pointed out. “ _So all drowning you would do is wake you up, right? And you look like you need the rest. So maybe I should focus on making it so you don’t want to wake up and leave.”_

“ _Oh, and how is it you plan to do that? Do you suppose you’ve dreamt yourself into being a better lover here than you are in the flesh?”_

“ _No, and I don’t care. That’s not what this is about.”_ Dream-Steve was pretty no-nonsense about it, but real Steve was almost sure he was bright red from embarrassment and shame, even in his dreams.

“I didn’t mean that.” Loki said softly. “I was… being cruel. Or trying to, at any rate.”

“Thought you said people had no reason to lie in dreams.” Steve responded, able to feel the sting of the blood in his cheeks.

“True. People don’t.”

Steve shot Loki a sharp glance at that, trying to puzzle through it, but Loki was stone faced and staring straight ahead, so Steve left it for now.

Besides, his dream self had pulled a sponge out from somewhere and was washing Loki.

“My mom used to have to wash me like this when I was younger. I got sick a lot. And… after she died, I think Bucky may have done this for me a time or two, but I was pretty out of it, those times.”

Almost as soon as he said it, his dream self was echoing the sentiments.

“ _I don’t think I’ve ever been on this side of a sponge bath before. Usually I’m the one needing taken care of.”_

“ _Lucky you, to have had someone willing. And lucky me, to have so experienced a nursemaid.”_

“ _You wouldn’t need a nurse if you’d just take care of yourself. And what-- are you saying your mom wouldn’t give you a sponge bath when you got sick as a kid?”_

“ _My mother was the queen.”_ Dream-Loki responded icily. “ _And as it turns out, she was never truly my mother, so the point is moot.”_

Steve turned to arch an eyebrow at actual Loki, but again, dream him wasn’t having any of it either.

“ _Queen or biologically related or not, are you saying she never loved you, never treated you like her own?”_

Dream-Steve was working on pulling Dream-Loki up, propping him in more of a sitting position, and despite how little Dream-Loki seemed to be helping, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

Dream-Loki pressed his lips together, and Dream-Steve huffed, seemingly amused.

“ _That’s what I thought.”_

Of course, that only seemed to egg Dream-Loki on.

“ _It hardly matters that she played the part well; it was still playacting, whether she would call it that or not. No woman holds the monster her husband brings home and feels genuine warmth towards it.”_

“Monster?” Steve repeated, and Loki flinched.

“I warned you that it was self indulgent.” He said, a little too evenly, to the point where it came out stilted.

“ _You’re not a monster.”_ Dream-Steve said, and Dream-Loki just stared up at him, his brow furrowing.

“ _You seem so sure of that.”_ He said, and though it wasn’t quite a question, Dream-Steve still paused, his sponge resting on top of the water and his eyes directed at Dream-Loki’s face.

“ _You had plenty of opportunity to injure me while I was vulnerable, or to-- to take my virginity, and the magic, and run for it, leaving Bucky to die. You didn’t. A monster would have."_

“ _And you, the furthest thing from a monster, know that for certain, do you Captain?”_ The edge was gone from Dream-Loki’s sarcasm, though, and mostly he just sounded tired.

“ _I don’t know about that.”_ Dream-Steve said, and he was looking down into the water at Loki’s sides, where, as Steve and Loki focused there too, bruises like fingerprints formed.

Dream-Loki smoothed his hands over his skin, healing the bruises and vanishing them under his touch.

“ _One accident on your part doesn’t make you a monster, any more than one good deed on mine relieves me of the title.”_

Dream-Steve sighed.

“ _Let me wash your hair, and then I’m making you soup.”_

“I wish you would have let me skip this dream.” Loki said, and Steve shrugged.

“The point of this is me learning what happened between us. If you think a dream about me taking care of you when you’re sick and tired and hating yourself isn’t important for me to know about, I have to wonder what you _do_ think is important.”

“You want to know what’s important? There.” Loki gestured, and Steve looked back to see the way Dream-Loki was all but melting in Dream-Steve’s hands, the way he leaned into the touch as if he was more starved for that than he was for real food.

“I hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t eaten in longer, and there you were, trying to be gentle, and kind, trying to tell me I was worth something. That’s all you’ll get out of these. You and I talk about our childhoods. I am unkind-- cruel, even. And you do nothing but try to help me, over and over. You apologize and tell me how good I can be, how kind I was to you. You thank me, and offer sympathy; Norns, there are even dreams where you hold me as I cry. But none of this is important enough for you to remember, and _none of it is real_.”

Within the world of the dream, Loki stepped a little ways away, out of Steve’s reach, even as his hand lingered on Steve’s body’s forehead.

“It’s real enough, isn’t it?” Steve asked, glancing back to where his double was pouring a small bucket of water over Dream-Loki’s head to rinse his hair, being careful not to allow soap to get into his eyes-- eyes which wouldn’t sting even if he messed up, because it _was_ a dream.  

“They certainly aren’t acting like it’s a dream. And you remember it like it was real.”

“It’s all in your head. That’s practically the definition of it not being real.” Loki snapped back.

“If that’s the case, then why do you care about me outside of the dreams?”

“Because I thought it would carry over-- I thought if I felt it when I was awake, you would too. But apparently not. It’s probably the magic’s way of punishing me, the Norns having a laugh at my beginning to believe, however tenuously, that maybe I could have this. That maybe I deserve this. Was worth it.” Loki fell silent, and the expression he wore was split between agony and anger.

“We’re wasting our time here. Come, let’s return-- I need to make that charm. The you in your dreams seems to think I need rest; that’s the only way I’m going to get it.”

He held his hand out, and Steve spared one last glance back at the doubles of them.

The conversation seemed to be exactly what Loki had described: Circular, with Loki wallowing in self pity, and Steve fighting it every step of the way. He didn’t miss, though, how Loki was leaning into the touch, or the way he-- the double of him-- was calmly and soothingly disputing any accusation Loki could level at himself. He thought it must be nice to be fighting something that wasn’t physical, didn’t just require him hitting it. But maybe that was selfish.

He also found himself wondering what it was his dream hands were feeling, what it would be like to actually run his fingers through Loki’s hair. And that definitely was selfish.

Loki was starved for company, for kindness, and Steve was starved for contact. No wonder this had turned into such a perfect storm.

But who was he to say? Loki said this was a waste of time-- maybe Steve really wasn’t helping.

Though Loki said he was eating more… still, Loki was probably right about it being a waste of time. He thought he had a pretty good grip on their dynamic, now.

He turned back and put his hand in Loki’s, almost disappointed not to be able to feel it.

“Alright. If that’s what you want.” He said, and just like that, he distantly felt Loki’s hand withdrawing from his forehead, and felt himself come crashing back into his body.

Loki had already stood up and turned away, moving back to his workstation, and Steve blinked a few times before closing his eyes again to wait for the room to stop spinning.

With them closed, it was easier to think.

“So, now we’re awake again-- you never answered my question, about what happened to make you think that you don’t deserve comfort or love or any of that.”

Now that Loki couldn’t just disappear, he wanted an answer. Even knowing that this wasn’t a dream, and Loki had more than enough reason and ability to lie.

“What does it matter?” He said, and Steve stifled a groan.

“Humor me. I mean, apparently I spent hours upon hours, on several nights, trying to convince you otherwise. I can only assume I asked in one of the dreams we didn’t get to. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to go to Doctor Strange to retrieve the rest of the memories. Which I have a feeling neither you or I want him seeing, so.”

At Strange’s name, Loki sucked air in between his teeth.

“You asked, I didn’t answer. You’d be wasting your time.”

“So answer me now.”

“You feel I owe you that, do you?”

Steve just raised his eyebrows, sitting up and swinging to face Loki, even though he kept his back to him.

He clearly wasn’t actively doing any spellcrafting, instead leaning on his arms on his work table.

Loki sighed and lowered his head.

“Everything.” He said, finally. “Everything in my life has been a parade of not being-- good enough, or right, or worthy, or… not even who I thought I was. What I thought I was. Hurting everyone I come across. It adds up, and I came to the only possible conclusion. You’d be hard pressed to prove wrong a millenium of experiences, the majority of which you did not even exist for.”

“So that’s it, then? You’re just going to give up, hide in a cave, and slowly starve yourself to death?” Steve couldn’t help but sound angry-- it was such a terrifying thought, that someone could go from thinking they deserved to run a planet that wasn’t theirs to this, in just a couple short years.

“I hurt everyone around me, too-- hell, I’d say most people do, if you give them long enough. Mistakes get made and people aren’t perfect. But the important thing is learning from that, getting better, doing better, and moving forward.”

“People aren’t perfect, certainly, but I’m not a person. And there are minor blows to the ego, and then there is… do you know how many members of the family I grew up with, the family I thought was mine, that I have either killed or tried to? _All of them_. And my true father, once I learned his identity, I also killed-- and I tried for the entire rest of his species, as well, before Thor stopped me. Would you like to try again, Captain? Try to tell me how I am not a monster? I would love to hear what you have to say without your dream state of endless patience.”

“Alright, yeah, that isn’t a mistake, or a series of mistakes, it’s a series of bad choices. And people still recover from those, sometimes. Again, we were planning on forgiving your past crimes in exchange for your help saving Earth, before you faked your death. But… what do you mean, about not being a person?”

Loki’s mouth opened, and then Steve saw him physically withdraw, a mask settling over his face as his mouth pulled upwards into a sneer.

“Oh, I’d forgotten-- that conversation must have happened in a later dream. Well here, I’ll save you the time.”

He took a step forward, a change pouring over his features. He turned blue, eyes going red, and Steve couldn’t keep from staring.

“This is how that particular argument ended. It scared you so badly that you woke. But this is no nightmare, Captain, you can’t just vanish and avoid the truth. You have to face it as I have; this is me, what I was meant to be, and what I always have been: a monster.”

That snapped Steve out of it, and he gave Loki the most unimpressed expression that he could muster.

“I don’t know if you remember, but we fought with a blue lady, a green lady, a grey man covered in red tattoos, a talking raccoon that tried to steal Bucky’s arm, and a lady with antenna coming out of her head-- and each and every one of them was a person. What makes you think you’re any different, just because you go blue?”

“One might argue they’re nearly as monstrous as me. Or had _you_ forgotten that both the green and blue women were thugs of Thanos’s? I myself spent time in their tender mercies, and have scars to show for it.” Loki crossed his arms and faded back into his paler skin, as if making a point.

“Well, that might be so, but they’ve also moved on from that, turned their lives around. Become heroes. _They_ aren’t starving in caves, as far as I know.”

“Yes, well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there?” Loki asked. “Now if you’ll excuse me-- I trust that answers your question. I need to finish this charm.”

Steve huffed and sat back down-- though on a chair this time.

“So that’s it. You’re going to make a charm and take me home, and just hope we both forget the fact that you sort of wanted me to be able to love you?”

This was still pretty absurd, he couldn’t lie, but knowing now… it made sense, in its own way. A sort of illogical sense, like getting liquid moonlight from elves.

“It should be easy enough for you; it’s only something that you partially remember from dreams.” Loki sounded like there was no argument to be had on the subject, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“And what about you? You spent months building up to it and you brought me here-- I’m sure that’s at least a little bit of why you actually came to New York in the first place, even. And it’s definitely why you were so angry to find me alone.”

“I did not find you alone. I found you in the company of those who used you, no matter how you argue otherwise. And your being alone doesn’t anger me. That is your choice; I’m certain the Widow is right, and your Bucky would leave her if you but asked. But you won’t. And the other alternative that I proposed-- well, you would rather be alone. Which is the better choice, even I have to admit that.”

Loki sounded bitter and sad, but before Steve could try to argue it again, there was an earthquake.

Or, not exactly-- Steve was thrown sideways from the force of it, and Loki drew in a breath, whipping around to face the wall that opened into the cave. As Steve turned to look, it crumpled under a red haze, and they were faced with Wanda, Bucky, and Natasha-- hands outstretched and weapons drawn, respectively.

Loki took a step forward, raising his hands, and Wanda immediately wrapped him in her power, keeping him from moving.

“Woah, hey-- Guys, it’s fine, let’s be civil about this.” Steve said, standing up from where he’d fallen.

“How civil should we be, exactly? He just kidnapped you, after you had to let him fuck you to save me. I can think of a few reasons why that sounds a lot less than civil.” Bucky’s voice was flat, and Steve felt like the air had been squeezed out of his lungs.

He looked sharply at Natasha.

“I-- that isn’t-- Nat?” Steve floundered, unable to swallow, much less breathe, all of a sudden.

“Sorry. I needed to explain to him how Loki was still alive and why he’d come after you specifically. Did you pay him back yet? Was this about the favor?”

Steve was still gaping, feeling as if the ground had fallen out from under him, an half hoping that it actually would.

He couldn’t find the words to answer her, instead turning to look at Bucky, afraid of what he was going to see there.

“Buck? Bucky? I’m… you know I didn’t…” He wasn’t sure what it was he was protesting; he only knew he needed some sort of confirmation that Bucky didn’t hate him, now.

“Steve, come on. What you did for me-- thank you. I get it, I understand why you needed to, and I wish… I wish you hadn’t had to. I’m sorry it came to that. But everything else, the fact that it was him, and he asked for more from you besides… You let him fuck you. That should be enough. He had no right to come and take you like that.”

Bucky glared at Loki, and Steve turned to look at him, chest tightening before he turned back.

“No.” He took a step backwards, away from Bucky, knowing right now he’d be forgiven, that he could go back to the way things were, but… that wasn’t the truth. And Loki didn’t deserve to suffer for it.

“No, I… First of all, _I_ fucked _him_. Second, the favor is payment for the magic he had to work. I made a promise, and you don’t get to break it for me. Third… third, this probably isn’t a one time thing. I mean, maybe, I--” He glanced at Nat, then looked away. “I like men just as well as women.  So it’s possible I might end up with a guy, and… I need to know if you’re okay with that.”

Bucky choked out a little laugh, and Steve’s stomach clenched up, terror ripping through him.

“Look, I’ve followed you in and out of wars without caring who you decide to sleep with or not-- heck, I thought maybe you just never would, and I was fine with that, too. The only thing I want is for you to find someone who deserves you, doesn’t matter who they are. I just want that to be your choice. He wasn’t. He didn’t deserve what he got of you, and that’s all he ever should get-- we’re going home, now, and we can talk more if you want. But this had better not happen again, Loki. Do you hear me? You stay away from Steve. You need something from him, he insists on paying you back, fine-- but do that like a normal person. If you show up and run off with him again, I swear I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”

Steve turned to look at Loki when Bucky addressed him, and saw the way he was slumping in the bindings Wanda had him trapped in.

“Wanda, please, you can let him go.” He tried to keep his voice even, tried to put himself back in charge, instead of Bucky and his anger.

“He was trying to work magic when we came in. I don’t know what it is.” She told him softly. “I don’t know if it’s safe to let him go.”

“It’s safe.” Steve promised. “He was just making a charm for me to wear. Apparently my dreams have been leaking, pulling him in. That’s why he came to talk to me. And then when he got there-- there was a misunderstanding, Buck. He saw you and Nat, and he thought that you had abandoned me for her, after he and I… I know you don’t go that way, I get it, but he thought-- anyway, he brought me here and we talked. And he’s going to finish his charm, so that he can start sleeping again, and stop suffering because of me. And we can go home, okay?”

Bucky stepped forward and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re too good, you know that? And for the record, this doesn’t change anything. I don’t think of you any differently.”  


Steve felt angry at that, and he wasn’t sure why, but all of this just felt-- it felt unfair. He hadn’t wanted Bucky to know, Loki didn’t deserve to get treated like this-- and ultimately it was all Steve’s own fault, for how he’d handled everything.

“Well, you should think of me differently.” Steve pulled away from Bucky’s touch. “Because I wanted it to be you, but that couldn’t-- and you know? I enjoyed it. Please. Just let him go. He didn’t hurt me. He isn’t going to.”

Wanda met Steve’s eyes, then looked to Natasha, who nodded. Just like that, the red glow that was binding Loki vanished, and he fell to his hands and knees on the hard floor of the cave.

“Steve, I'm only upset because your first time shoulda been... special, you know? Meaningful. I don't think any less of you at all."

"Special like you and Dolores behind the gymnasium?" Steve fired back. "Or do I deserve something better just cause I waited around wanting someone I couldn't have?"

Bucky gaped at him, then shook his head. "Let's... we'll talk about this later." He shifted his eyes, and his attention, back to the other man. "Loki. How long will this charm take?” Bucky asked, and Loki shook his head, not looking up from the ground.

“It’s done. Take it and go.” He waved in the direction of his table, and Steve crossed to it, lifting what looked like a dog tag on a chain, only to feel it pulse within his hand. But all of this still left a bad taste in his mouth.

“You heard the man, Steve. C’mon, let’s go home. I’m still not-- you’re still my best friend. We’ll figure out anything else we need to.” Bucky didn’t sound quite as angry now, and Steve took a step towards him, but he paused, looking down at Loki.

Loki who had been living alone for who knew how long, now, hating himself and starving himself. Loki who had saved Bucky an been good to Steve, even when he didn’t have to be. Loki who had been so full of hope, thinking maybe, just maybe, Steve could love him.

“Wait. I have something I have to do first.”

Steve returned to Loki, offering him his hand.

Loki just stared up at him, wretched.

“I owe you a favor.” Steve told him. “I think you should ask to come back with me. Ask me to help you get your life back together.”

“I cannot ask you to love me.” Loki returned, miserable and words sharp with hurt.

“No.” Steve answered. “You can’t. But you can get on your own two feet, figure out where you stand in this world… and we can go from there. We can try.”

Loki stared at the offered hand, then back up to Steve’s face.

“Why?”

“Because… because I think you're worth it.” Steve looked back to Bucky, who was watching all of this through narrowed eyes. “You saved my best friend. You care about me. And you think… you think you and I are like Bucky and me. You think you love me, and I could never love you back. That’s not it at all."

Natasha wrapped a hand around Bucky’s arm, silently asking him to stand down.

“I want to try, but not until you’re in a more stable place. We have to be on an even playing ground for this to have any chance to work. And I want to help you get there. But I don’t want you to feel like you owe me. So, a compromise: Call in your favor, and we’ll be square.”

Loki sat up, wiping at his nose with the back of his arm.

“Ever an honorable man.” He said, clearly meaning it to come out snidely, as a taunt, but he failed and managed only to sound grateful. He nodded, almost to himself and took Steve’s hand.

Steve pulled him to his feet, and then into a hug.

“Come on.” He said, looking at his other friends, and then at the man he held. “Let’s go home.”

\---

  


As the quinjet took off, its motors drowned out the sounds of soft words that were being exchanged in the cockpit, a debate between the Widow and her soldier. Loki paid it no mind; after all, what could they do to change any of this? He could feel the witchling’s eyes on him, but he didn’t much mind that, either. She would do as she was asked, and Steve wanted Loki with him.

Out the windows, the sun began to rise. Steve held his hand, and Loki closed his eyes, leaning against the Captain’s shoulder, exhausted and surprised not to be abandoned or pushed away, though he was grateful just the same. His thoughts silenced and grew still and finally he found himself drifting off to sleep, too long in the coming. Beside him, the necklace rested on Steve’s chest, and Loki’s sleep was blessedly unburdened.


End file.
